


Strike!

by McShipIt



Series: Domestic Bliss? [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Year Mission, Crew as Family, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McShipIt/pseuds/McShipIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The captain’s physician, one Leonard H. McCoy M.D., is officially on strike!</p><p>More trials and tribulations of the happily married couple.<br/>Same universe as <i>Mine!</i> but set after it. Can be standalone. COMPLETE<br/></p><div class="center">
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            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at some fluff, cliched and troped to the max. It's complete!  
> A huge thank you to the talented [Sapphirescribe](../../users/sapphirescribe) for taking time out of her incredibly busy fic schedule to pre-read this.

With a resounding sigh, Dr. Leonard McCoy peered over the rock ledge. Fifteen feet below him, lying on his backside, gripping his leg at the knee while a pretty young thing held his head in her hands was Captain James T. Kirk. He was smiling and flirting like he was known to do, earning a blush from the new ensign and a school-girl giggle only her foolhardy captain would appreciate.

Even from this distance it was obvious to the doctor the captain had done some damage to his foot, most likely fractured it or had some tendon strain. Other than the pain, Jim wasn’t in any immediate danger, and Jim was no stranger to pain. In fact, he’d endured much, much worse countless times over.

So it was in the doctor’s sound, medical opinion this incident was far from an emergency situation which had called for his atoms to be scattered all over the galaxy and put back together on some godforsaken purple planet.

“Doctor, what course of action do you recommend?” the young ensign asked. Leonard couldn’t remember her name, wasn’t interested to know it, and the fact she was still holding Jim’s head in her lap, caressing his shoulders had nothing to do with it.

“Oh, I don’t know, you seem to be providing exemplary treatment for the captain. Carry on.”

“Bones!” Jim said, grimacing at the pain in his foot when he shifted to look up at Leonard.

The ensign appeared confused, which was to be expected. Even though she was newly assigned to the Enterprise, the rules of engagement must have made their rounds. For medical emergencies involving the captain, Dr. McCoy was to be the first to attend to the captain, often barking orders at anyone who dared touch him before he did. But, no, not this time. If that damn fool wanted to get himself hurt for stupid reasons—and by stupid Leonard meant jumping down from a rock ledge on some ridiculous purple planet because he was too impatient to wait for a rope ladder—well, then that damn fool could suffer the consequences. Leonard was tired of fixing up Jim, and tired of Jim passing off his injuries as a farce, or taking them too lightly, as he was known to do. Leonard was fed up with Jim’s lack of regard for his own body, so if Jim didn’t care, neither would Leonard.

As far as Leonard was concerned, Jim’s personal physician was going on strike.  

“I’m sure the captain will be fine, ensign,” Leonard said, walking away, and then over his shoulder, he added, “but maybe you should hold his hand. He likes that.”

“Bones.” Jim’s outrage was evident in that one word. “Get back here!”

Leonard opened his comm. “McCoy to Enterprise.”

 _Aye, Doctor,_ Montgomery Scott’s voice came over the speaker.

“One to beam up, Scotty.”

 _A-ah_ , Scotty hesitated, _is the captain all right?_

“Don’t know, but I’d like to beam back aboard, if you don’t mind. I'm not a fan of purple all that much.”

 _Dr. McCoy,_ Spock’s voice replaced Scotty’s, _is the captain injured?_

“Oh, yes,” Leonard said. “I believe he is. Not positive though.”

_Did you examine him?_

“Nope.”

There was silence for a few seconds on the other end of the comm and Leonard knew the hobgoblin was trying to find the logic in Leonard’s vague answers.

_Doctor, please report the status of the captain’s injuries._

“’Fraid I can’t do that, Spock.”

_Why not, Dr. McCoy?_

“Because I’m on strike, that’s why,” Leonard said and he was smiling when he said it, feeling freer than he had in years.

=/\=

Leonard was in his office catching up on paperwork when the captain was finally brought into sickbay. The commotion regarding Jim’s arrival was enough to make his eyes roll. Jim’s intentions, as well as the rest of his team’s, were as transparent as the acrylic glass wall in his office. By making as much noise as possible, they were trying to get his attention to make him come out of his office.

He could hear Jim’s belly-aching as clear as day, even though whoever his attending was would’ve given him a pain inhibitor before they had even tried to move him. If Jim were in serious pain, he’d be quiet and not moaning for the entire galaxy to hear. Leonard wasn’t falling for it, besides, he had about three days of work to get caught up on. He wasn’t on strike from being a doctor, only on strike from being _Jim’s_ doctor.

There was a quick knock on his door before it slid open.

“Doctor?” Nurse Chapel addressed him. “The captain has been placed on biobed four.” She set Jim’s chart in front of him. “Fractures of the lateral and posterior processes of the talus—”

“Do you know what’s on tonight’s dinner menu?” Leonard asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Dinner, Chapel. I’m starved. Working up quite the appetite finishing all these reports.”

“Leonard—” Christine warned. “Don’t you think this game has gone on long enough?”

“What game?”

She placed her hands on her hip, leveling a serious frown in his direction. “What treatment do you want the captain to undergo?”

“Well, I’m not sure, Christine. What does his doctor say?”

“You’ve made it quite clear since day one of this five year mission, that you’re his doctor, and only you.”

“Not anymore. There’s an entire sickbay out there filled with extremely qualified doctors and nurses. I should know, I handpicked all of you. I’m giving up first rights to the captain.”  Leonard got up from behind his desk, giving Christine a quick pat on the shoulder as he walked by her. “You’re all smart enough to figure out how to treat a moron.”

As he stepped out of his office, Jim called out to him.

“Well, hello, Jim. My shift’s over. Was gonna head down to the mess. You hungry? Want me to grab you something? I hear sickbay food is terrible.”

“Bones...” Jim drew out his name, just short of a whine. “Please come here.”

Leonard made his way over to Jim, smiling with his hands held behind his back. If someone was observing him, they might say he was sauntering...just a little bit. “Do you need me to hold your hand? Has no one done this for you, yet? Dammit, I did tell them.”

“Why are you being such an asshole?”

“I’m sorry, Jim. Are you in pain?”

“Yes!” he said. “Well, no, not now.”

“Excuse me, Nurse Chapel,” Leonard said, in his sweetest southern drawl.

“Yes, Dr. McCoy?” she asked, with concern on her face, probably thinking he was going to reprimand her for something his staff had done with the captain that wasn’t to his specifications.

“Not to be too much trouble, but do you think you could give the captain something for the pain? He seems to be unsettled by it.”

“Bones, stop being a jackass. Wait. Is this about the flirting?"

“Yes, Jim.” Leonard huffed. “I’m jealous of a girl half your age.”

“Half? Hardly!” Jim’s eyebrows pulled down, offended by Leonard’s poke at his age. “Then what’s the matter with you? Why are you acting this way?”

“And what way is that, dear? A concerned husband? Because I am,” Leonard said, patting Jim’s hand. “Really, I am.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry I broke my foot. But it’s not like I did it on purpose or anything. It was an accident.”

“I know, Jim.” Leonard continued to pat his hand, placating him. “You never mean to get hurt. What kind of person would willingly risk their life like that? They’d have to be certifiably insane, or have some kind of death wish they live their lives by. And really, a captain of a starship wouldn’t do that. He’d know better than to risk his life at the expense of a few minutes, wouldn’t you say so, Nurse Chapel?”

“I’m staying out of this one,” Christine said, walking away with her hands in the air.

“I get it,” Jim said. “Okay? Lesson learned. Now fix me up so I can get out of here.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Come on. Don’t be like that. You’re my doctor.”

“Jim, you’re asking me to cross my own picket line, and I’m afraid my morals are stronger than that. So, until you meet the demands set by this opposing party, the captain’s physician, one Leonard H. McCoy M.D., is officially on strike.”

“He is, is he?” Jim eyed him up, crossing his arms. “And just what exactly are these demands?”

“The terms will be presented at 0800 hours, the start of the good doctor’s next shift.”

“Just stop it. Okay? Stop all this, and stop talking about yourself in the third person.”

“I’m gonna grab some grub. Can I bring you something?” Leonard leaned down and kissed Jim’s forehead, smoothing back his hair. “I’ll be back after dinner.” He smacked Jim’s cheek lightly as he turned to go, but before he could leave, Jim grabbed hold of his wrist.

“You really want to play this game? Fine. I’ve known you for ten years, Bones. We’ve been together for six, and three of those as man and husband. I know you better than you know yourself. You’d never give up being my doctor and that’s a fact. So, bring on your demands, old man. We’ll see who cracks first.”

"Rest up, sweetheart," Leonard said, smiling. "I've a feeling you're going to be stuck here awhile. Be nice to have the bed to myself again."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Leonard had been right, but then there was never any doubt he wouldn't be. Jim didn't come back that night. M'Benga and Chapel kept him overnight, not because his injury was severe, more that they were terrified to discharge Jim in the event they overlooked something their CMO might not have. They ran the gamut of tests and analyses on Jim to make sure nothing was missed. A blood clot, another fracture, a bone splinter in Jim's blood stream, everything about the captain's health was examined in detail. They couldn't let it slide, especially when the CMO and the captain were fighting like 'a bunch of old hens.' Chapel's words, not Leonard's.

Leonard had spent the evening in their shared quarters writing out his list of demands like he said he would. He sat around in his underwear, sipping a dram of Bourbon, and enjoying his small bit of freedom for the night. It was only made sweeter by the knowledge that Jim would be fuming as he lay on the horribly uncomfortable biobed itching to get out of sickbay.

Leonard would hardly admit the bed felt empty without Jim. He'd stayed many nights on his own, even with the kind of pull a captain and a CMO had, they didn't always have the same shift rotation, but those lonely nights were always interrupted by Jim quietly slipping under the covers and resting his cold feet on Leonard's legs to let him know he missed him and he wanted Leonard to wake up. They also weren't usually fighting. They made it a rule not to bring ship politics across the threshold of their quarters, and they were pretty good at sticking to that rule.

When Dr. McCoy reported for duty at 0800 the next day, he submitted his list of demands regarding the details of his strike to the ship's captain. He wondered how long it would be before Jim came down to ridicule him. No one had to know he had a quick peek at Jim's chart while he drank his morning coffee. Jim was fully healed, released for light duty after being kept overnight, which Leonard thought was a bit cautious considering he'd only fractured a couple of minor bones that would have been fixed by the osteoregen unit. But who was Leonard to argue with the captain's newly appointed physician?

Leonard also managed to glance at Jim's schedule, and noticed he wasn't on shift until beta, which meant he had the entire day to stew over Leonard's list of demands. It made Leonard smile into his cup as he took a sip of his coffee.

"'Morning, Leonard," M'Benga said, leaning against Leonard's office door looking like he was fresh off of a battlefield.

"'Morning, Geoffrey. How was the night shift?" Leonard grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"You know you're a son of a bitch for dragging me and Christine into this, right?" He rubbed at the shadow on his chin which had grown in the twenty-four hours he'd been on duty.

"Think of it as a great career move, Geoff. ‘Ship Captain's Doctor.’ It looks great on your credentials."

"You're an ass, Leonard," M'Benga said yawning as he turned to leave, "but you already know that."

=/\=

Leonard worked through his entire shift without word from Jim. He had plenty of visitors wanting to talk about the captain, and Leonard entertained every one of them and their opinions in regards to their latest spat. That was the thing about living on a starship, there was no privacy, and one's business was everyone's business especially when it involved the captain and the CMO.

Uhura was the first to visit, and slapped a hand on his back for having 'the balls' to stand up to Jim...finally. For someone adept in languages, her choice of words was definitely colorful.

"I know you're married to the man, and I still don't know how that ever happened, but—" Uhura said.

"You want to question my choice in partners, Nyota? You're the one bonded to a damn computer."

"At least Spock's rational. Kirk, well, Kirk just doesn't think sometimes."

"I'll give you that one," Leonard said. "But this isn't really about that."

"Then what's it about, Leonard?" Nyota was one of his closest friends. They took comfort in their bitching about their respective partners. If anyone could see right through this façade it was Nyota.

Leonard's frustration with Jim had hit its pinnacle point the moment Uhura's comm had come into sickbay informing him the captain had been injured on a routine data-collecting mission on L-374.  

Of course Leonard was concerned at first, like always, wild imaginings of rogue aliens attacking Jim, or uninhabitable planets fighting back, so he gathered his equipment and a team to transport down to the surface—and any time Leonard had to use the transporter, well, it had better be a life and death situation or heads would roll. As soon as Leonard discovered Jim had been hurt by being careless, he'd thrown his hands up in the air in surrender. He was done being on the other end of Jim's recoveries, and yes, that was plural many times over.

“The man thinks he’s still eighteen and not thirty-three,” Leonard said, answering Nyota. “Jumping down a fifteen foot drop like his joints and bones are made of rubber. He has no sense, sometimes. It was a goddamn simple, routine mission, and yet he manages to wind up as the only casualty on the mission list. Now, how the hell does he manage that? Every. Single. Damn. Time.” Leonard was shaking his head hoping he wouldn't burst a blood vessel in his twitching eye.

“It was an accident, Leonard.”

“Who’s side are you on?”

“Yours, of course,” she said.

“Every time I turn around it seems I’m hovering over Jim lying unconscious on a biobed. I really should commemorate one of the beds as the 'James T. Kirk Revival Bed – Where Morons Come To Rest Their Heads From Their Own Stupidity.'”

Uhura barked out a laugh, and once her laughter had run its course, she fixed him a solemn gaze. “Despite all this postulating, you do love him and will never stop worrying about him or caring for him. So, what’s this really about?”

If Leonard pulled up Jim's chart he'd be able to see exactly how many times he'd fixed Jim and that was a daunting thought. Hell, he'd even brought Jim back from the dead. It doesn't get more dire than that. Death should have been enough to make Jim settle down, but dying had only been a minor blip on Jim's life radar. Whereas for Leonard, it had changed his entire world, making him reconcile his feelings for Jim and how he couldn't live a life without him.

Leonard let out an audible sigh. "I don't know. I'm just tired of patching him up. He's not some hotshot kid anymore. He needs to take on some responsibilities for his life, 'cause I'm getting sick and tired of it."

She eyed him warily, but was enough of a friend not to push any further. She patted his thigh before rising from her chair. "Okay, Doc," she said. "Stay strong, then." She kissed his cheek before leaving his office.

=/\=

Leonard’s last visitor had been Scotty, and at least he had the decency to bring a bottle with him.

"So, you and the captain havnae made up, then?"

"We're not fighting, Scotty."

"Well, you better tell the captain that." Scotty poured them both a glass of his homemade whiskey he not-so-secretly brewed down in engineering. "He spent the whole day messin' with my ship. Now, I dinnae mind a curious captain, pokin' and proddin' and such, but he was a miserable cuss and chased off all my ensigns."

"I thought he was on light duty? What the hell was he doing working in engineering?"

"Aaah," Scotty said, grinning before taking a sip from his glass. "For a man claiming to be on strike, you're mighty up to speed on the captain's health."

Leonard rolled his eyes before drinking the whiskey. It burned as it went down, which usually happened with Scotty's hooch. It was not made for the faint hearted. "I'm still the CMO of this ship, Scotty. I see every patient's discharge records, not that I need to explain it to you."

"Well, Doctor, as Chief Engineer," he said, fixing him a pointed look, "I'm begging you to make this right. The Enterprise can't take another hit like the last red alert between you two."

"Red what?" Leonard asked, sitting forward in his chair. "What do you mean red alert?"

"Ach, please. Like the two of you don't know the crew have ways of measuring your fights. Condition blue, that's a wee tiff you're likely to get over within the hour. Like the captain stealing your pudding off your food tray. The captain takes pleasure in getting you riled up, you see. So blue’s fairly common. But a yellow alert, well, that's a bit more serious. Maybe the captain's interfered with something down in medical. You're angry, but it's not something that lasts more than a day or a night’s rest if you _ken_ what I mean." Scotty winked and hid his blush behind his glass.

"Then enlighten me what a red alert means," Leonard said, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the Scot’s insinuations.

Scotty rubbed the back of his neck. "Ach, well, that's like reaching critical status. We've only had two so far, and both times, the Enterprise has suffered for it. She cannae take another red alert, no like the last one."

"Which was when?"

"I'd rather not say." Scotty looked like a man going to his death sentence. "It was understandable, but all the same it was a wee bit difficult ‘round here."

"When, Scotty?"

"Troyius," he said reluctantly, and Leonard felt his cheeks heat up. "That woman…Elaan."

"All right, I get it." Leonard downed the rest of his whiskey, needing it to forget that whole ordeal.

How was Leonard supposed to know if the tears from an Elasian female touched a man's skin he'd be enraptured to her forever. As far as he was concerned it was all a bunch of poppycock. He was a real doctor, dammit, not a witch doctor, and those tears were some kind of magical spell.

It didn't help he'd been raised a southern gentleman and that meant he was a bit of a sucker when it came to women crying, even women who pulled temper tantrums when they didn't get their way. That horrible woman's tears landed on Leonard’s fingertips, and before they even dried, he'd lost all of his own freewill. Her tears were made up of a chemical compound of complex pheromones that triggered an imbalance in Leonard's system. They'd eventually discovered the antidote, but not before Leonard had confessed his undying devotion to Elaan, much to the chagrin of his husband.

"It wasn't that bad, Scotty. It wasn't my fault, and Jim forgave me."

"But no before ripping out those Jefferies tubes to gain better access to the warp nacelles, and let's not even talk about those coils he wanted to upgrade. It took weeks to put her back together. I don't think she's ever fully forgiven me."

"We're not fighting," Leonard said, putting an end to this ridiculous discussion. "This has nothing to do with our marriage. It's a department matter. Ship business."

"Aye, Doc, as long as you say so. But if I see one flux coupler in the captain's hands, I'll drop this ship out of warp and lock down engineering."

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

At the end of his shift, Leonard received a request for his presence on the bridge. As he left sickbay, there were enough whispers in the corridors to let him know this was going to be the confrontation he'd been expecting earlier. Jim and Leonard might not bring ship business into their 'home,' but outside of those four walls, Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy were all about business. Of course Jim was going to do this on the bridge. The entire senior command would be there, and apart from Nyota, they were all loyal to Jim.

They were waiting for him in the captain's ready room, and when he stepped through the door, he caught the smirks from every one of them even though they were trying to hide them. Only Jim and Spock sat at the table looking as stoic as ever.

"Dr. McCoy," Jim said, acknowledging him from the head of the table, "have a seat, please."

Leonard refrained from rolling his eyes as he sat to Jim's right, across from Spock.

"A new precedent has been set in Starfleet history,” Jim began. “It seems to be the first of its kind. I had Commander Spock look into the nature of this request, but even he couldn't find evidence of a senior medical officer ever having declared a…" Jim paused for dramatic effect, drawing this out to let everyone know what Leonard had proposed was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard of. "… _strike_  against their captain’s health. I want you to know, Doctor, I intend to take this very seriously. Your demands will not go unheard. In fact, I'd like to share them with my senior command so you know your words are not being taken lightly."

Jim thought he was clever, trying to embarrass Leonard, but he'd written every word on that list in hopes the entire command team realized just how much of a pain in the ass Jim was to deal with professionally as a patient.

"That's mighty kind of you, Captain. I appreciate you taking your precious time to make this a priority, and to take my requests seriously. After all, I think you'll find we all want the same thing: A healthy captain, one who’s breathing for most of the day, every day." Leonard folded his arms, giving the captain his best southern smile, no teeth just a polite gesture of cordiality.

"Mr. Spock, do you have the document?"

"I do, Captain." He passed Jim a PADD. "I did not discover any incidents of a ship's Chief Medical Officer declaring a strike action against treating a ship's captain, apart from instances of mutiny, wherein the opposing party was sentenced to death when found guilty."

"Well, I hardly think we're at that stage, Mr. Spock." Jim smiled, making sure to work the room and look everyone in the eye before winking at Leonard. "Yet, anyway."

"A strike declaration has never happened under Starfleet command," Spock said. "However, I did find numerous incidents in Earth's history, and the Federation's for that matter, of organizations declaring a work stoppage in response to employee grievances. These actions were often part of a social movement, possibly to destabilize the rule of a particular political party or ruler. In this case, the captain."

"Dr. McCoy, is that your intention?" the captain asked with a smug look on his face. "Do you intend to destabilize my chain of command?"

"Not at all, Captain," Leonard said. Two could play this game. "My refusal to treat you has nothing to do with your command of this ship. I merely wish to call attention to some prolonged reckless behavior."

"I see," Jim said. "Do you mind if I read these out?"

"The list is brief, and not unreasonable. I'd be honored, Captain." Leonard gave Jim another winning, warm smile, one that would melt butter on a cold San Francisco morning.

Jim cleared his throat, giving one last look around the room before beginning.

“I, Leonard H. McCoy, M.D., hereinafter referred to as the ‘physician’ of one Captain James T. Kirk, hereinafter referred to as the ‘captain,’ declare a work stoppage as physician of the USS Enterprise's captain from this day forward unless the following demands are met. Signed, witnessed and adhered to.

“One,” Jim continued. “The captain will report to sickbay for his designated quarterly physicals, promptly and without complaint.”

Jim couldn’t help his eye roll or the little quirk of his lip. To Leonard’s right, Sulu snorted, turning it into a cough to cover up his laughter.

“The captain will attend all medical appointments without distraction, and submit _willingly_  to all tests deemed necessary by his physician.” Jim glared at Leonard, like he was some petulant child, when in fact Jim was the child in this scenario, especially when it came to point number one.

“What can I say?” Leonard grinned. “I’m tired of the song and dance the captain elicits when he comes for his physicals, and the demand is not unreasonable. I have a job to do, and part of that job is to make sure each member of this crew is in tip-top shape. There are nine hundred and seventy-four persons aboard this ship, and each require, at minimum, three physicals a year. Some, like the captain and a few senior-ranking officers, require four. Mr. Spock would you care to calculate how many physicals that is in one Terran year?”

“Precisely two thousand nine hundred and twenty-nine, Doctor.”

“There are approximately five hundred twenty-five thousand, nine hundred and sixty minutes in a Terran year. Is that correct, Mr. Spock?”

"It is an approximation without factoring lunar cycles, yes.”

“It takes about forty-five minutes to complete a thorough physical. The captain’s physicals, on average, take eighty-five minutes, almost twice as long, because he’s distracted, combative and argumentative. My staff has to complete one hundred thirty-one thousand, eight hundred and five minutes worth of physicals in approximately five hundred twenty-five thousand, nine hundred and sixty minutes in a year."

Spock nodded his head at Leonard’s calculations.

“And that’s not taking into account sleeping, eating, away missions, shore leave, recreational time, injuries or illnesses and other medical emergencies. That’s just a daily task we need to fit into our regular duties. If every crew member took as long as the captain, it would be physically impossible to do our jobs running a standard shift rotation of crew member physicals. And that’s a mathematical fact.”

Leonard folded his arms, raising his eyebrow at Jim, waiting for him to counter his well thought out argument.

“Captain, the doctor’s logic is sound,” Spock answered without any trace of favor.

Uhura, sitting next to Spock across from Leonard, nodded with pride when he caught her eye.

“Number  _Two_ ,” the captain said, ignoring his first officer. “The captain will abide by the dietary restrictions set forth by his physician, and will do so without complaint.”

Again, Sulu couldn't resist his laughter. The two were often on the same shift rotation and regularly ate together. Sulu was well aware of Jim's poor eating habits and his reluctance to change.

“As CMO, I have the authority to monitor the entire ship menu if I deem necessary. If I find the crew getting soft around the edges, it’s a simple form to fill out, requesting certain items, like dessert, be removed from the menu.”

Scotty, sitting at the opposite end of the table, started to protest. “You wouldn’t dare.” His indignation started to rub off on the others, and Chekov, who was rather fond of gingerbread trifle, sat still in his seat, eyes wide trying hard not to get involved in the discussion.  

“It’s well within my rights, Mr. Scott. It’s your job to keep this ship running at optimal capacity and you do what’s necessary to keep her that way. It’s my job to keep the members of this crew running at optimal capacity. In order for them to stay at their best, they need to be eating a healthy and stable diet.”

Scotty wanted to protest, his mouth flopped open and closed a few times before he shut it permanently and sat back in his seat.

“However,” Leonard continued, “I also believe that a healthy crew member is a happy one. And I would never take away such simple indulgences like gingerbread, as long as they were consumed in moderation. Right, Mr. Chekov?”

“Ah—y-yes, Doctor.” Chekov smiled like it was Christmas morning. “I see your point.”

“The captain has the most important job on this ship,” Leonard said, defending his point further. “Also the most stressful. Stress has been well documented to have a direct correlation with poor judgment, an inability to concentrate, memory problems and anxiety...just to name a few, all things that could affect a captain’s ability to command. High stress also contributes to high blood pressure, and the captain’s latest physical determined his blood pressure was a little on the elevated side indicating he might be under some duress. One of the easiest ways to control this is through diet. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable for his physician to prescribe a diet packed with vitamins and nutrients that could help lower his risk of heart disease. After all, a healthy captain means a healthy and safe ship.”

“Using the crew’s fondness for sweets is low even for you, Bones.” Jim shook his head, clearly starting to get annoyed by the turn this discussion was taking. He had expected everyone to laugh at Leonard’s demands, dismissing them like he had every intention of doing. Jim had not been prepared for Leonard to be logical and well-prepared in defense of his list of demands.

“Captain,” Spock said, “I was unaware of the results of your last physical. It was not in the report you filed to Starfleet, Doctor.”

“No, Spock, it wasn’t. I said it was a little on the high side, nothing to be too concerned about, nothing that needed to be reported to Command. If the captain doesn’t change his eating habits, it’s got the potential to be more of a concern.”

“So, I eat less bacon for breakfast. Big deal.”

“It is a very big deal, Captain,” Spock said. “A human’s ability to react in the best of circumstances is much slower than most species. Humans rely on emotions when governing their actions, and hypertension does lead to poor judgment and can interfere with sound decision making. The doctor makes a valid argument.”

"When did you two start agreeing on things?" Jim asked, his annoyance shining through loud and clear. “It’s uncomfortable.”

“While I don’t exactly enjoy the idea of us on the same page, Spock, I thank you.”

“Moving on,” the captain snapped. “ _Three_. The captain will not question the authority of his physician when it comes to his health, and his recovery.”

“I think this one is pretty self-explanatory,” Leonard said, letting his southern drawl play a huge part in his facetious tone to try and lighten the atmosphere. “Every person on this ship knows the captain spends more time lying on a biobed than anyone. He’s also the worst patient my staff has to put up with. It doesn’t make for a very efficient department when my nurses are afraid to administer what I have prescribed for the captain. And let’s not forget the times the captain has discharged himself against medical advice. He was still recovering from an injury to his shoulder when he beamed down to that hostile planet in the gamma quadrant and ended up re-tearing all the ligaments in his shoulder and doing more damage than what he’d originally done.”

“To be fair,” Sulu interjected, “he did save my life, as well as three other members of this crew."

“I’m not questioning the captain’s bravery, Mr. Sulu, merely making an observation in regard to the captain’s listening skills. The captain has a team of security officers at his disposal, all of whom he had a hand in recruiting and should trust to do their jobs. He also has a first officer who is half Vulcan whose strength is far greater than the captain’s, especially while he’s recovering from an injury. The captain chose to ignore my orders and led the rescue team down to that Class M planet and although the outcome was somewhat favorable this time, his injury put himself and his team at risk.”

“Bones, come on! I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing while members of my crew were being held hostage. I’m the captain. It’s my job to make sure everyone comes back alive.”

“Captain,” Spock interjected, “although that is a function of your duties, the primary responsibility of the ship’s captain is to ensure the safety of the ship and that of all of her crew. In some instances, your life must come before that of others. The needs of the many must outweigh the needs of the few. I concur with the doctor in regards to that particular mission. I was more than capable of taking your place while you recovered from the safety of the ship.”

“Spock…” Jim warned, leveling him with one look.

"All right," Leonard said, trying to cut the tension. "I think this discussion brings us to my last demand." Although he wanted Jim to take this seriously, he didn't want to interfere with any of his relationships on this ship, and he definitely didn't wish to undermine Jim's command. Leonard wanted Jim to take accountability for some of his actions. There used to be a time when Pike was Jim's conscience. He could always rein Jim in, but Pike had been long gone for six years now and Leonard had tried to pick up the slack, except he didn't hold any authority over Captain Kirk. Leonard McCoy could only manage Jim Kirk.

Jim was still glaring at Spock like the man was a traitor when he spouted off the final point like he had it memorized.

"And the last demand, number four," he said, turning his gaze to Leonard, "the captain, while on duty, will refrain from reckless behavior which puts him at unnecessary risk. 'Reckless' is to be defined and determined by his physician and his first officer."

Jim's hostility was palpable, and Leonard was starting to realize this might be backfiring a little bit.

"Now, I admit," Leonard said, "this last demand is unclear and a bit open to interpretation, maybe a bit unreasonable—"

"No, it's insubordination," Jim said. "I'd be careful, Doctor. You're treading a fine line. The rank of captain means I'm top of the food chain on this ship. I do not answer to you, or Commander Spock." The tips of Jim's ears were flushed red, a sign Leonard knew all too well. Leonard might have over-stepped his rank on that last demand. He needed to explain his reasoning before Jim's sense of betrayal settled into his bones.

"All I'm asking is that you think a little before you leap. This ship has been together for over six years now. We've seen people come and go, and thankfully not had any further catastrophes like those first two years. We're more than just a crew, and the Enterprise is more than a ship, and she needs her captain. We're all getting older, Jim, we don't bounce back like we used to, the Enterprise included. We're coming up to the end of our five-year mission. Let's make sure everyone is alive to see it."

Jim was staring at his hands, and wouldn't look Leonard in the eye, even if he willed him to do so. Dr. McCoy knew his captain, but Leonard knew his husband even more. Jim would forgive him for this, he wasn't sure about the captain, though, and as much as they tried to separate the two, their relationship didn't work without both.

The room was silent with an unsettling awkwardness. It wasn't difficult for their friends to realize this had become so much more to Leonard than an outlandish prank, but no one was willing to take sides either, so the room stayed silent, waiting for their captain to take the lead.

And Captain Kirk was ever the professional.

"All right," he said, clearing his voice. "We've all heard Dr. McCoy's demands, and until we reach a mutual agreement, the doctor is officially on strike. Not as CMO, or from treating patients, he's only on strike from one patient." Jim smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He turned to Leonard. "So, I take it Dr. M'Benga will be the strikebreaker until this is resolved?"

Leonard nodded with a frown. "He's kindly agreed, yes."

"Great!" Jim said. "I think that's all. Questions, anyone?" When no one said anything, Jim rapped his knuckles on the table. "Report to your stations, everyone, we have a ship to run."

Jim was the first out of the door, never once looking back.

Leonard stayed seated until everyone but Spock filed out of the room.

"Doctor, may I speak with you a moment?" Spock asked.

"Of course, Spock," Leonard said, settling in his chair again. "What is it?"

"I believe the correct term is: May I be frank with you?"

"I don't exactly welcome it, but yes, you may."

"Doctor, while I agree with all of your arguments, I must state the obvious. It would be logical for you to resign permanently as the captain's doctor. In fact, you should have resigned the moment your relationship with the captain went beyond that of friendship. Is it not written in the physicians' code of ethics a physician should refrain from treating themselves or family members? And I believe Jim is the closest family you have. The physician-patient relationship is the foundation of the practice of medicine. The quality of this relationship is compromised when there is a personal, emotional involvement, and for humans, separating emotions is next to impossible."

"Spock, I'm well-aware of my damn profession. And maybe I'm still Jim's doctor because no one else would have him. He's a difficult patient, doesn't listen to the advice of his doctors, and he damn well doesn't have any regard for what he puts his body through. I'm the only one on this goddamn ship he  _almost_ listens to, and I'm sure as hell the only one who has the patience and fortitude to put him back together. I don’t need you to tell me I’m too emotional to treat Jim, I damn well know I am! But unless you know of a better way to keep that moron from dying on an operating table, I suggest you keep your pointy ears out of it.”

Spock raised his eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, and like I usual gave nothing else away. "Indeed, Doctor."


	4. Chapter 4

Jim had been off duty for over an hour, and he still hadn't come back to their quarters. Leonard was waiting up for him, but his eyes were growing heavy, and tomorrow he was on alpha shift again. He needed to sleep, but he was determined to stay awake until Jim came home. They needed to put to rest once and for all the rumors they were fighting.

Sitting on the sofa with his legs outstretched, Leonard started to nod off regardless of his stubborn will. His chin slowly tilted to rest on his chest, but he was jolted awake by the sound of the door hissing open.

Jim walked into the room, then stopped short when his eyes landed on Leonard.

"Didn't think you'd still be up," he mumbled, toeing off his boots.

"Was that your plan?" Leonard asked with a smirk on his lips. "Sneak in while I'm out cold so we can continue to ignore each other?"

"That's not what I was doing."

"Oh, no? Your shift ended an hour ago, Jim."

"I had some reports to catch up on." He lifted his command shirt over his head, leaving the black undershirt in place.

"Reports at midnight."

"Maybe."

Leonard groaned as he stood up from the sofa, stretching his arms over his head. Walking toward Jim, he reached out to him for a kiss, but Jim pulled away before he had the chance.

"Dammit, Jim, let's not do this."

"Do what? You're the one acting like a child, undermining my authority as captain of this ship."

"Jim…"

"Don't," he said, brushing past Leonard on his way to the head. He shut the door and Leonard heard the start of the water running. He'd let Jim simmer down, maybe a shower would do him some good, make him think about what he was doing and the golden rule he'd just broken.

It was a long ten minutes later when Jim came out of the bathroom with only a towel slung low around his hips and water droplets still clinging to his skin. Jim walked with purpose to the closet, pulling out a pair of flannel pants. He unknowingly taunted Leonard with a sliver of his backside when he quickly pulled his pants up as he let the towel drop.

Leonard was sitting on the sofa again, but now he was admiring his new view. He would never get tired of looking at Jim, even an incensed Jim with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw. The past few years Jim had started to fill out, losing his youthful appearance, and instead, his body had become lean with long lines and hardened muscle. He worked hard to maintain his body. Unlike many captains during their first five year missions, Jim didn’t give way to the notion of space and a captain’s chair meaning a sedentary way of life. He stayed sharp, and in shape and was often seen jogging the corridors of the saucer, treating it like his own personal running track.

Leonard appreciated Jim’s efforts very much.

“Jim," Leonard said. "I think you’re forgetting the one promise we made to each other the day we got married." Jim's shoulders tensed further acknowledging Leonard's words, but he didn’t respond, instead he reached down to pick up the towel at his feet giving Leonard more fodder to continue this conversation. "Never thought you were a man to break promises so easily. You remember that promise?” No longer able to resist Jim's pull, Leonard rose from the sofa, slowly making his way toward him.

Jim threw the towel into the laundry chute, but didn't turn around. “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot even though you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” Leonard said, sliding up behind a bare-chested Jim. He placed his arms around his waist, hugging him flush to his chest. Kissing the side of Jim’s neck, he added, “A moron sometimes, but not an idiot.”

Jim flinched away from Leonard, trying to get out of his grip. “Bones, don’t. You tried to humiliate me in front of my crew. I’m still pissed off.”

“So, you are going to break your promise.” Leonard held him tighter, refusing to let him go. He kissed the bare skin of Jim’s shoulder, letting his mouth linger a bit longer than Jim probably wanted him to.

“No, I’m not.” Jim was sulking, but Leonard felt Jim’s shoulder relax under his lips. He licked at the star-shaped mole nestled in the junction of Jim’s clavicle and scapula, and that seemed to have the effect Leonard was hoping for.

“Fine. I get it,” Jim said. “In the privacy of this room, we’re not McCoy and Kirk. We’re Jim and Bones. Ship politics stay outside that door. I meant it that day, and so did you.” He sighed, giving in to Leonard. Jim might be a man who didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, but when it came to Leonard it was the one time he could surrender and still win. Turning in Leonard’s arms, he wrapped his own around Leonard. He rolled his eyes, leaning in to capture Leonard’s lips. “Doesn’t mean you’re not a stubborn jackass, by the way. You’re just my stubborn jackass.”

"Damn right," Leonard said, patting Jim's ass before grabbing hold of it. "Morons and jackasses seem to be our specialties."

"Does this mean I'm not allowed to tell you about my day?"

"Depends. Does it involve complaining about members of your crew?" Leonard pulled Jim closer until there was no mistaking exactly where Leonard hoped this conversation was heading. Jim didn't resist, but he didn't encourage Leonard, either.

"Only one."

"I see," Leonard said, laying a trail of kisses down the side of Jim's jaw. "Does it involve a list of some sort?"

"A ridiculous fucking list."

"Then no, Jim, you can't tell me about that skillfully written, thought provoking list." Jim started to protest, but Leonard cut him off with a kiss, a deep one, to which Jim had no choice but to submit.

After what Leonard thought was enough time to take Jim’s mind off the day’s events, he broke the kiss nuzzling the spot on Jim’s neck where tension seemed to thrive.

"No fair, Bones," Jim breathed, letting himself relax in Leonard’s arms. "You fight dirty."

"I thought we weren't fighting."

"We're not," Jim said, still a little breathless.

“Does that mean you’ll leave Engineering alone?”

“What?” Jim pushed back so he could see Leonard’s face.

“The crew’s somewhat concerned our differences of opinion will interfere with the running of this ship.”

“That’s absurd. I was down there for an hour, tops. I didn’t even touch anything. Scotty’s a whiny bastard."

Leonard chuckled, nipping at Jim’s ear. “I had a steady stream of visitors today, all wanting to express their opinions. Good and bad. I understand all too well about whiny bastards. You’ve got a ship full of ‘em, Jim.”

Holding Leonard's hips firmly, Jim finally gave in to what Leonard truly wanted from him. Pushing his own hips forward, Jim guided them toward the bed. “I think you can come up with some ways of making us forget about our meddlesome crew.”

“Oh, I can, can I?”

"Yes, Bones, enlighten me."

“Damn shame you rushed to get dressed so quickly."

“These?” Jim let go of Leonard’s hips, and in one fell swoop, the plaid pajama pants were lying on the floor.

“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard said, undoing the buttons on his pants, and at the same time trying to remove his shirt. He couldn’t move his hands fast enough, flipping from one task to the next, trying to make up his mind which item to remove first. Clearly he was not as adept as Jim when it came to getting naked.

“I’ve been missing you all day.” Leonard’s voice was muffled through the fabric of his shirt as he tried to pull it over his head. His hands stilled when he felt Jim’s fingers trailing along his skin underneath the waistband of his pants. The touches were feathery soft and teasing, causing Leonard to squirm out of his shirt to avoid the ticklish feeling left behind by Jim’s fingers while they deftly removed his pants. “Look who’s fighting dirty now?” Jim knew Leonard’s body and all of the sensitive spots, had for years now, and that spot on his hip where the junction met his thigh was off limits when it came to soft touches.

“I’m gonna need to fuck you, Bones,” Jim mumbled into the side of Leonard’s hip. His breath was warm and seemed to swirl around Leonard’s cock, seducing it into action. Licking a trail along that sensitive junction of his hip, Leonard resisted a moan, at least until Jim bit down, sucking and leaving a mark that would last for days. Jim flipped Leonard on to the bed so he was hovering over him with his wrists pinned above his head. “I think after what you put me through today, I’m entitled.”

“Entitled?” Leonard’s eyebrow shot up. “I don’t think you’re entitled to anything, Jim. Me on the other hand, well, _I_ think I may need to fuck some sense into _you_.” Leonard had always been as strong as Jim, but definitely not as cunning. If Jim wanted to hold him down he could, so Leonard was surprised when Jim let himself be pitched sideways and their roles were reversed.

Leonard was grinning down at Jim so he didn’t miss the eye roll or the huff Jim gave him as Leonard ground his cock into his. Each time he pressed down, Jim lifted his hips to meet Leonard’s while still smirking and holding Leonard’s gaze. They were rubbing and grinding their cocks together until the friction picked up to the point of being painful.

“Bones,” Jim said groaning with a smile on his lips, “we can do this ‘til we’re both raw, or you can reach over to the drawer and get what we need so I can end this. That’s the only way this is happening for you tonight.”

The heat rushed through Leonard's body, rousing him past the point of pain and into pleasure. It had been awhile since he had been this hard without being inside of Jim or having Jim's mouth wrapped around him. Leonard had always been a sucker for a commanding Jim, even if Jim rarely brought it into their bedroom. Since Jim had to make the difficult decisions all day long, he was happy to let Leonard call the shots. So, when Jim’s forcefulness appeared on the odd occasion, Leonard hid his deep arousal knowing that sometimes Jim needed to be led rather than lead. But tonight, Leonard had counted down the hours while he waited for Jim, feeling his absence of the past two days, and he couldn't hide his desperate need any longer. They were stronger than the captain and the doctor, and if Jim needed to be inside of Leonard to remind himself of that, then Leonard would willingly submit to anything Jim wanted.

“Well, gee, since you asked so nicely,” Leonard said, leaning across the bed to grab the essentials. “I’ll let you do whatever you want, Jim, just stop chafing my dick.”

=/\=

When they woke in the morning, nothing was different or unusual. After a night of sex, Jim always managed to find his way to Leonard's side of the bed, sprawling across him, nudging Leonard right to the edge until he dangled precariously above the floor, and then it was Leonard’s right to always complain about it. It was their comfortable banter and they both slipped into it easily.

"I swear if we had a king sized bed you'd still manage to sprawl the length of it. I should truss you up before you fall asleep," Leonard said, sipping his coffee while Jim was getting dressed.

"We tried that. Remember?” Jim winked, then gave him a devilish grin before slipping his shirt on over his head.

Leonard felt the heat rise on his cheeks remembering their shore leave on Risa where they spent their two-year anniversary trying their hand at ‘new things.’ It hadn’t been a disaster, per se, but Leonard had decided they were adventurous enough without having to bring props into their bedroom, especially ones that didn’t come with keys like they were supposed to.

“You’re an audio file on loop, Bones. You say the same thing almost every morning. And why are you complaining, anyway? Maybe I like to be near you."

"You have a problem with personal space, Jim."

"There's no such thing on a starship. And I just spent the better part of the night inside of you while you begged me for more. The personal space argument is moot." Jim towel dried his hair, walking back toward the head. On his way, he swiped Leonard's coffee, like always, because he never could be bothered to get his own.

"Jim, dammit, that's my coffee. You don't even like it black." Out of the corner of his eye, Leonard could see Jim shrug his shoulders. “And I did not beg!”

“Oh, yes, you did.” Jim snapped the towel in Leonard’s direction filling the room with a resounding crack as it made purchase with nothing but air. "And I'll stop stealing your coffee when you stop stealing my shampoo. You don't even care what you use on your hair, so stop using mine. This stuff's expensive and hard to come by. You do realize it's to stave off gray hair and baldness, and not to be used to wash your balls."

Leonard snorted as he replicated another coffee for himself. "Well, I hope you realize that's all bullshit, right? Shampoo can't stop your hair from turning gray and it sure as hell can't stop baldness. That Orion woman knew a sucker when she saw one."

"I'm not the one who's almost more salt than pepper, old man."

"You said you like the salt.”

"I do." Jim came out of the bathroom and wrapped an arm around Leonard, kissing him lightly. "Why can’t we just forget about yesterday?" he asked between kisses. "I want it to always be like this between us. None of that other stuff. I promise not to do anything stupid, like jump from cliffs, ever again."

"Jim," Leonard said, tasting the mint from his toothpaste mixed with coffee. Leonard slowly opened his eyes once he had Jim's face nestled in his hands. "You and I both know that's an empty promise. One I've heard many times over the years."

Jim broke free from Leonard’s gentle grip, nuzzling Leonard's neck, running his lips softly over the skin until he caused a slight shiver from Leonard. "So, Dr. McCoy is really going through with this?"

"Yes, Jim, he is." When Leonard pulled back there was a twinkle in Jim's eyes that Leonard recognized all too well. Jim was up to something, and Leonard saw right through him.

"Breakfast?" Jim asked.

Leonard resisted the urge to swat the back of his head and call him on whatever he had planned, but instead, decided to let Jim have his scheming. "Why not?"

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

The walk down to the mess was uneventful but certainly far from quiet. Leonard strolled with his arms behind his back, while Jim played the dutiful captain greeting everyone by name as they passed them by. To the casual observer, their appearance and behavior was nothing out of the ordinary, but Leonard had a built-in bullshit detector when it came to his husband, and Jim smelled fairly rank. He just had to wait and be ready for when Jim’s plan played out.

It was a full house in the mess, and as soon as Jim and Leonard walked in, heads turned and voices hushed. It was a little disconcerting, but they were used to it by now. Ship gossip was a part of life they had grown to accept, and this time it was no different.

Leonard made his way over to Christine and Uhura, who were eating at their own table, while Jim found Chekov and Scotty a few tables away.

"Morning, ladies," Leonard greeted them, but noticed their wary expressions.

"I see you two made up," Christine said.

"Jim and I weren't fighting. However, the captain and I are still in the middle of negotiations."

"So, you didn't talk about it last night?" Uhura asked.

"You know Jim and I don't discuss ship business off duty, and me being on strike is ship business."

Uhura was shaking her head, and Christine was looking at him like he had some screws loose.

"I still don't know how you two do it," Christine said. "Must be a man thing, cause there's no way I could keep something like thatimpartial and out of the bedroom."

“Because we’re adults, Christine,” Leonard said, but before he even finished the words, his eyes caught sight of Jim coming away from the galley with a tray filled with food, but not just any food. He raised the tray in Leonard’s direction, smiling like the little shit that he was. His tray was piled high with about a pound of bacon and a high-stack of pancakes loaded with butter and drizzled with a gallon of syrup.

“Breakfast looks great this morning, wouldn’t you say so, Dr. McCoy?” Jim picked up a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth. “Might even go back for seconds.” He sat down next to Scotty, rubbing his hands together, then dug into his pancakes.

It took a full minute of Leonard staring at Jim before Uhura kicked his shin to get his attention.

“Leonard," she whispered, "everyone’s staring at you.”

"Goddamn infant," Leonard growled. He continued to cuss the entire time he picked up his own oatmeal and fresh, replicated grapefruit juice. As he walked back to the table, Jim was smiling at him through a mouthful of pancakes. The pound of bacon was halfway gone, and Jim didn't look like he was slowing down.

Leonard ate his breakfast while idly chitchatting with the ladies, trying his best to ignore the whispers and stares, and definitely ignoring Jim and his plot to hasten the heart attack that would inevitably happen one day. When Leonard was finished with his meal, he emptied his tray and on his way past Jim, he patted Jim’s head leaning down to pretend whisper speaking loud enough so most could hear.

"Don't worry, Captain, I'm sure your crew will still respect you when you need to replace your beloved chair because your ass will be too fat to sit in it." He pinched Jim's cheek softly, then winked when he saw the fire in his captain’s eyes.

Jim had warned him to bring his A-game yesterday, and as far as Leonard was concerned he wouldn't be the first one to crack. Jim needed Leonard to fuss over him. It was how things worked between them. Jim's actions over breakfast hadn't roused Leonard to lash out at him like Jim had hoped, and that would leave Jim with a lot more feelings than just an upset grease and sugar filled stomach.

=/\=

As days passed with no resolve to the strike negotiations, Leonard discovered the crew had started taking bets on who was going to break first and when. According to Chapel the pool was pretty high, and steadily growing. When he asked if she was participating she feigned her disgust, but then had the audacity to ask him if he and the captain were still sharing the same bed.

He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, probably calculating her chances of winning the pool if Jim had started sleeping on the sofa.

"Just tell me if you're betting for or against me, Christine."

Leonard watched the color rise in her cheeks before she quickly looked away, fussing with the sheets on the biobed.

"Unbelievable," Leonard grumbled. "My own staff can't even back me up."

"Leonard," she said. "It's not like that. We just know you, and to be honest, we all know how much you love him. And when push comes to shove, you'd never let something happen to the captain." She placed her hand on his arm, just briefly, then dropped it when she saw the glare he was giving her. "You defied death for Jim. And I have no doubt you'd do it again if you had to." She pulled the sheets tight, keeping her hands busy so she didn't have to look at him again. "Now, I'm not saying he doesn't need a lesson in self-preservation, 'cause Lord knows that man has no sense of that, but there's no real stake in it for him. If we know you'll crack, so does he."

The only response Leonard could muster was the ol' eyebrow raise as he thought over what Christine was saying. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he knew she was right. If a life and death situation with Jim occurred, he would never let someone else balance Jim's life in his or her hands. Leonard had been in that battle too many times over the years, and he knew what it took to lead the charge to beat down death. He was too emotionally invested to be Jim's doctor, but that meant when it came to saving his life it seemed to work in his favor.

"How much time did you give me, Christine?" Leonard asked.

Sheepishly, she turned to face him, shrugging her shoulders. "'Til the end of the month."

"Then I hope we don't run into any homicidal aliens, or visit any hostile planets for at least four weeks," Leonard said. "Wouldn't want you to feel bad about betting against your friend and winning."

"Leonard…" she called after him, but he had already left sickbay.

Leonard's mood had taken a turn from somewhat grayish to black in a matter of minutes. Anyone who passed him in the corridors could see the metaphorical cloud hanging over his head. They were quick to jump out of his way, and even waited for the next turbolift while Leonard made his way back to his quarters. He figured he could stew in his own irritation, or head to the gym and work off some steam. So, he changed into his sweats and went in search of some weights to take out his anger on.

He should have realized what day it was and what the hour was, but he wasn't thinking when he'd left sickbay. This was Jim's day to train with Sulu and the two were working out on the mats when Leonard stepped through the gym doors.

They looked like they were in the thick of things, so he gave them a quick wave, then headed to the weights to leave them to their sparring. He never understood why two men would want to practice beating the shit out of each other, not that he ever complained about Jim training with Sulu. He always seemed to come back from their sessions a little more relaxed and, of course, horny as hell.

Leonard watched them for a bit, then eventually got into his own zone and lost track of the time. When his muscles were sore and tired, he grabbed a towel and wiped his sweat-soaked skin. Jim and Sulu were still sparring, but something had changed in their method. When Leonard first arrived, Jim had pads on his hands, and Sulu was punching like a boxer in training.

Now, Jim had shed the pads and the two were dancing around taking swipes at each other but purposely missing. Punches and kicks, but none of them had connected with any real force, almost like they were waiting for something to happen.

Leonard caught Sulu's eye, a quick glance that Leonard could have sworn was an apology. The next thing Leonard observed was Sulu spinning on his left foot, while his right foot came up and connected with Jim's face. Leonard could hear the bone crunch from where he was standing. Jim went down hard, grunting and groaning while Sulu rushed to Jim’s side apologizing over and over.

Leonard's stomach lurched, and his heart seemed to catch in his throat as he started toward Jim. Cursing Sulu and Jim and their goddamn ridiculous schoolyard fight tactics, he took four steps, then stopped.

Maybe it was the look Sulu had given him right before he kicked Jim's face, or maybe it was Jim's staged groans, because Leonard knew Jim Kirk's levels of pain. From flesh wounds to near death, Leonard knew them all, and these groans were nothing more than attention seekers. Sure, a broken nose was painful, but Jim had suffered a half a dozen of them, and most times he kept on ticking like it was an inconvenience, not a 'lay on the mat moaning for help' kind of pain.

"Dr. McCoy!" Sulu called out to him. "I think I broke the captain's nose." Jim was hunched over with his back to Leonard, but he could see the blood gushing onto the mats. "It won't stop bleeding."   

Throwing the towel over his shoulders, Leonard sauntered over to the two men. He couldn't decide if he was angry or surprised at the lengths Jim was willing to go to test Leonard. The falsely worried look on Sulu's face was enough to convince Leonard this was all a setup. Jim had probably ordered Sulu to kick him in the face, because he doubted the kid would have agreed to do it, then again, he hoped he had. When would anyone get the chance to kick Jim Kirk in the face without retribution? Leonard wished he'd been given the chance.

As he got closer, Jim sat back on his haunches, holding the bridge of his nose.

"Bones," he said, his voice was muffled. "Is it bad?"

Leonard bent down to get a better look. "You're a goddamn mess, Jim."

"I'm seeing spots, and I think I'm going to throw up."

Leonard stood back up, folding his arms. "Is that so?" Jim was playing the concussion card, thinking Leonard would fall prey to his asinine plan at the first sign of possible brain trauma. "Come on, Jim. You've been hit harder than that before. You've always said Sulu hits like a girl."

"I do not!” Sulu defended himself. " I would've hit harder, but you said—"

"It's fine, Sulu," Jim snapped, then winced at the sudden movement. Leonard might have felt a pang alongside of Jim's pain, but then he remembered Jim had contrived this.

Jim was looking up at him expectantly. He even blinked his puppy dog, bright blue eyes at Leonard, but they didn't have the effect Jim had been hoping for.

Leonard wasn't a sucker and despite what Christine had said to him earlier, he was not going to be the one to cave.

"You should probably take the captain down to sickbay, Mr. Sulu. Maybe they'll find a hypospray for the two of you, laced with a dose of common sense." He threw his towel at Jim. "Unbelievable," he said, then walked away muttering insults like 'morons' and 'goddamn irresponsible’ under his breath.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Leonard was in his office looking over the parameters for the latest mission. Another routine assignment to drop off supplies, except this planet was in the Beta Quadrant on the edge of the neutral zone, so there was always some cause for concern. Enterprise was to regroup with the colonists and scientists to collect the data they'd been gathering from the planet over the last few months.

Leonard hadn't decided if he was going to go with the away team, and Jim had yet to order him, so he was doing a little research in the meantime. It had been awhile since he'd been part of a landing party. The last time didn't count because he was never supposed to step foot on that damn purple planet and wouldn't have if his husband looked before he leapt.

Leonard figured it might be a nice change of pace to stretch his legs, breathe some real air and feel solid ground under his feet. It also might do him and Jim some good to get away from the restrictions of the ship and all its continued gossip.

It had been two weeks since the 'roundhouse' incident, as Christine and Uhura liked to call it. Jim and Leonard never mentioned it, not even when Jim showed up in their quarters with his bloody shirt and faint traces of bruising around his eyes. Dr. McCoy had officially been on strike for three weeks, and neither the captain nor the doctor was ready to renegotiate the terms. So they continued the stalemate during their hours on duty and blissfully ignored ship politics each night while in the confines of their tiny bed. It wouldn't last forever, they both knew this, it was a pressurized bottle waiting for the cork to be pried off. In the meantime, they balanced the precarious nature of their working relationship with that of their marriage.

They weren't so much as avoiding each other during their shifts, but Leonard couldn't remember the last time he had been on the bridge, and Jim's daily visits to sickbay had stopped. So, while Leonard was in the middle of reading about the potential dilithium reserves on the planet, he was surprised by the commotion he heard outside of his office. Jim's voice carried, as did M'Benga's.

"Doc, I gotta say," Jim said in a mollifying tone, "I don't have time to be down here, so just sign off on whatever you have to sign and I'll be on my way."

"It doesn't work like that, Captain," M'Benga said. "It's mandatory."

"What? When did this change?" Jim asked. "I've never had to do this."

"That's impossible. Starfleet regulations state all members of landing parties must report to sickbay before and after any missions planetside."

Leonard felt the tug at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what this was about, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. Rising from his chair, he grabbed his coffee, and wandered out of his office. Leaning up against the wall, he watched with delight how this was going to play out.

Since Leonard shared quarters with Jim, he let Jim get away without having to report to sickbay. He usually conducted a quick, yet comprehensive, exam in the comforts of their living space. And most of the time, Jim wasn’t even aware the exam was taking place.

Leonard started to laugh when he saw the crease in Jim's forehead and the frown on his face.

"Those regulations don't include the captain," Jim said.

"They most certainly include the captain," M'Benga argued.

At Leonard's laughter, Jim looked his way and was relieved to see Leonard was there to clear some things up.

"Bones, tell M'Benga you never make me go through this. Sign off on whatever you have to sign off on and let me get back to the bridge."

"'Fraid I can't do that, Jim."

"Why not?"

"I'm not your doctor." Leonard shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "And for the record, you do go through this every time there's a mission. You just may not be conscious while I do it."

"What?" Jim and M'Benga asked at the same time.

"Good luck with the vaccines, Geoff," Leonard said.

"What vaccines?" Jim asked, only now noticing the hypospray in M'Benga's hand. "Oh, no, you don't. Bones certainly doesn't make me go through that." He was pointing at M'Benga's hand, backing away from him. "I don't do well with those things. Tell him, Bones. I'm allergic to them."

"You're not allergic to hyposprays, you big baby," Leonard said, rolling his eyes. Although Jim _was_ allergic to many things, a few vaccines as well, hyposprays weren't on the list, but Jim's aversion to them caused enough hassle that Leonard tended to dose him while he was sleeping to avoid all the drama. It was part of the benefits of being married to the CMO. Of course, M'Benga didn't have the luxury of a comatose Jim, so he felt sorry for the man somewhat. Jim would fight him on this, or he'd do even better and get even with the man. As captain, Jim would find a way to assign him a ruthless, daunting task at his next convenience.

"Do you want to beam down to that planet or not?" M'Benga asked, placing a hand on his hip.

Jim gave M'Benga his best indignant huff, then his glare drifted over to Leonard. "Bones, did you get your boosters?"

"No, Jim. I'm not assigned to the mission. Not on the roster."

"Well, you are now. That's an order," Jim said, pulling down his shirt collar for M'Benga.

"Yes, sir, Captain," Leonard said, grinning into his mug. "Looking forward to it."

=/\=

Leonard was woken from his sleep by scratching…a lot of it.

"Lights, ten percent," he whispered and the room was awash with a soft glow.

He peered over a sleeping Jim and gasped. Jim's skin was covered with fiery, red hives. M'Benga must have given Jim a new inoculation he was allergic to, probably something with Cardassian vole dander in it.

"Dammit, Jim," he cursed under his breath as he got out of bed in search of his medkit.

If Leonard had been in charge of Jim's care for this mission he would have examined each of the vaccines to make sure Jim wouldn't have any reactions to them. It was rare Jim did, but Leonard always made sure before injecting him with anything. M'Benga would never know that though, just like Leonard hadn't known the first time when he snuck Jim aboard the Enterprise. It was something Leonard had come to accept over the years, a habit to avoid any instances like numb tongue or grossly swollen hands.

Grabbing his tricorder, he scanned Jim making sure there was nothing threatening about the hives, then checked if his airways were clear. When all of the results came back normal, apart from the itching and red spots, he relaxed, breathing a little sigh of relief through a smile. He put his medkit away, ordered the lights off and climbed back into the bed beside Jim, careful not to touch him.

He quickly turned over when he realized Jim was rousing from his sleep.

Jim began scratching uncontrollably, and Leonard's reprimands were on the tip of his tongue, but he kept mum, letting Jim scratch away even if it went against his doctor moral fibers.

"Bones!" Jim said in the dark. "Something's wrong. Lights!"

Leonard pretended to be waking up from a deep sleep, slowly rubbing his eyes, keeping his emotions in check and trying not to laugh.

"Look at me!" Jim said, jumping to his knees.

"What?" Leonard mumbled, pulling up the covers to hide his smile. "I'm sleeping, Jim."

Jim grabbed hold of his shoulder, trying to turn him over. "Look at me," he pleaded again. "What's wrong with me?"

"A number of things."

"Bones, this isn't funny."

Leonard pretended to peer closely at Jim's skin. "Looks like hives."

"It itches like hell."

"Hives tend to do that."

"My skin's on fire!" He was whining now, and Leonard was finding it more and more difficult to keep a straight face.

"A little suffering's good for the soul, Jim."

" _Do_ something."

"Okay," Leonard said, getting out of bed, but only because he needed to stifle a laugh. He heard Jim sigh with relief, a little too happily if Leonard thought so himself. Even though his back was to Jim, he knew Jim was smiling, calling this a victory already. So, Leonard went to the head, shut the door, and relieved himself. When he came out Jim's smile was gone, but he was still scratching, looking at him expectantly.

"It's all over your face, too. You should call your doctor."

"Bones," Jim warned, the light in his eyes growing dark. "Why would we call M'Benga? It's the middle of the night. Let the poor man sleep. Can't you take care of this?"

"I could, Jim," Leonard said, sitting on the sofa, putting his feet up on the table. "But you're forgetting one simple fact."

"Enough with this charade, Bones. I'm serious this time. Don't make me call M'Benga. I'm asking as your husband, not your captain."

"Sorry, Jim. Unlike Geoff, your husband doesn't make house calls."

Jim looked ready to scream. Even with the rash, his skin took on a deeper red, flushed with anger or irritation. Probably both.

"You're unbelievable, you know that? You could clear this up with one of those sprays, couldn't you? And instead you're going to be an asshole about this, and make a man who's dead asleep come all the way down here just so you can prove your goddamn point."

Leonard watched the rise and fall of Jim's chest, and saw his clenched jaw from where he sat on the sofa. Leonard wondered if this was going to be the argument they had been tiptoeing around for weeks. His own pulse began to race, and rationally, he knew he shouldn't react to Jim's anger, but he felt defensive regardless of what he told himself.

"Maybe I just want to be your husband from now on. Ever think of that? I'm tired, Jim," Leonard said, sliding a hand through his hair. "I'm so goddamn tired of worrying, of looking out for you, and maybe I'm tired of doctoring you. Ever think of that?"

Leonard regretted the words as soon as he said them. He saw the hurt in Jim's eyes. It was there only for a second before Jim hid it behind one of the masks he had learn to carry inside of him over the years. Leonard hated to see the hurt, and hated the mask even more. For as long as he'd known Jim, those masks rarely made an appearance in Leonard's presence. Jim never needed to hide anything from Leonard, and that was one of the reasons why Leonard fell in love with him. Jim laid everything out for Leonard, never feeling the need to hide behind propriety. He reserved those masks for others, but for Leonard he could always be himself, faults and all.

He shouldn't have said it, especially the way he said it, but the mask worked both ways. Leonard needed to be honest with Jim, and if that meant Jim suffering a little to make his point, it would be worth it in the end.

The two were locked in a heated glare, both glowering, while Jim kneeled on the bed, and Leonard sat on the sofa. The hives were still fiery and raised, and it must have been taking all of Jim's willpower not to scratch them.

Keeping his eyes fixed to Leonard's, Jim leaned over to the side of the bed, and pushed the comm button.

"Kirk to Dr. M'Benga." While they waited for the doctor to answer his call, Jim said with scowl, "I thought we weren't dragging this farce into our home?"

"We're not." Leonard folded his arms. "Technically, I'm not a doctor, and you're not a captain. Isn't that what we've always said?"

_M'Benga, here._

Jim chewed on Leonard's words for a second before answering. He shook his head at Leonard, then pushed the comm button again. "Doc, I've had some kind of bad reaction to those shots you gave me. Can you come to my quarters?"

There was a moment of silence over the comm, then M'Benga came back on. _Is Dr. McCoy there?_

"He is," Jim said. "But _technically_ he's not."

There was another pause on M'Benga's end, then his voice was heard over the speaker with what Leonard could tell a hint of exasperation.

_On my way, Captain._

 


	7. Chapter 7

The hives had dissipated, but unfortunately Jim's anger hadn't. Everyone in the landing party knew it, hell, the entire ship knew that Captain Kirk was not speaking to Dr. McCoy. By leaving Jim to his own devices early this morning, Leonard feared he might have gone too far. It was unreasonable to make M’Benga come to their quarters, but Leonard wanted to see this to the end or at least until Jim recognized Leonard’s concerns were legitimate. Leonard just hoped this silent treatment from Jim wasn’t going to affect their mission or more importantly, do irreparable damage to their relationship.

The last time the ship had contact from the colonists was over two hours ago, and Uhura hadn't been able to reach them since. There was an ion storm on the other side of the planet, which—according to Spock—could be causing interference with communications. It was Dr. McCoy who suggested to the captain they should wait until they heard back from the planet before beaming down, but that only seemed to escalate the captain's anger. And when the captain was angry, he often did rash things.

There were six in their landing party: Jim, Leonard, Sulu, Chekov and two tactical officers who had taken the places of the science officers who were supposed to beam down with them. As much as Jim was rash, Leonard never said he was an idiot. Jim often leapt before leaping, but he always had a feel for danger. The armed guards were enough to let Leonard know Jim's sixth sense was tingling.

While Leonard stood with a nervous Chekov in the transporter room, Jim was at the console with Scotty and Spock calculating the beam down coordinates. Chekov was eyeing Leonard, shifting on his feet and wanting to say something to Leonard, but too afraid to speak without invitation.

“Chekov,” Leonard snapped, “spit it out if you must.”

“Sorry, sir—Doctor. It is nothing.”

The kid looked crushed. Leonard regretted his outburst, he didn’t mean to yell at the kid, but the tension in the room was getting to him.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Mr. Chekov. I didn’t mean that.” Their conversation was cut short when Jim turned from the console, clapped his hands once and hopped up on the pad.

“Ready for transport?” Jim asked the room.

Chekov gave Leonard a sympathetic shrug, then moved to stand on the transporter pad next to Sulu. The rest of the team followed leaving the spot beside the captain empty for Leonard. Jim hadn’t so much as glanced at him since they stepped foot in the room, so he was somewhat reluctant to take up his usual place.

“Mr. Spock, you have your instructions.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Energize.”

Leonard hated his part. Having his atoms scattered all over space for even a few seconds always made him wonder how many didn’t come back each time, like he was slowly being taken apart one microscopic piece at a time. If he thought about it too much, he always panicked. Usually Jim was there to make sure he was okay. It only took a simple smile or a wink of the eye, enough to let Leonard know everything was all right. This time, however, Leonard had nothing but Scotty’s pitiful face looking back at him before he felt himself disappear. He could've sworn the man mouthed 'red alert.'

They energized, fully intact, in the middle of a clearing about a hundred yards from the settlement. The air was cool with a breeze that went right through Leonard’s shirt. He wasn’t complaining though, it felt nice against his skin, reminding him of his Academy days when the wind picked up in the Bay.

It was quiet, except for the trees creaking in the wind and with what passed as the planet’s leaves rustling against each other. They were odd-looking, greenish with a blue tint on one side and silver on the other. When the wind blew, it looked like ocean waves sparkling in the sun thirty feet in the air. If it hadn’t felt so gloomy and silent on the planet, Leonard would say it was quite beautiful to watch.

There was no party to meet them, no one they could see near the settlement. It was oddly vacant with only the sound of the wind present making the hairs on Leonard’s arms rise but not from the chill in the air.

“Captain,” Sulu said, looking at his scanner, “atmosphere appears to be normal. No signs of life, though.”

“Let’s see what we can find out at the settlement,” Jim said. “Stay alert.”

They followed the path, keeping a look out for any evidence of activity, but the place was deserted. There were four structures that comprised the settlement, and one looked like it had been partially built against a rock ridge, probably where the geologists were mining. There seemed to be nothing amiss, at least not from what Leonard could tell, but the lack of welcome was enough to let everyone know something wasn’t right.

“I don’t understand, Captain. We had contact with Dr. Jensen only a few hours ago. He was looking forward to having us join them. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, Mr. Sulu.” Jim had stopped walking, surveying their surroundings and when his gaze landed on what was ahead, he frowned.

While the others were looking to the horizon, and the trees, Jim was studying the ground. Crouching down, deep in thought, he picked up a handful of dirt letting it slip between his fingers.

Leonard, careful not to disturb him, quietly walked up behind him. When he saw Jim's shoulders tighten somewhat with resolve, he braved asking him a question. Despite their animosity earlier, if something was wrong on this planet the two could easily move past their differences when it mattered, at least Leonard hoped so.

"Jim," Leonard said, softly, "what are you thinking?"

Bouncing some dirt in his hand, Jim kept quiet for a moment longer, then stood up suddenly. "Mr. Chekov, you and Dr. McCoy are to beam back aboard the Enterprise."

"Like hell I am," Leonard growled.

"Sulu, you're with me. Hendorff, we're going to need a team down here fully armed."

"Jim."

"Kirk to Enterprise."

"Jim," Leonard said, tugging on Jim's arm since he continued to ignore him.

"Enterprise, come in." Jim tapped the comm, turning the dial to get a signal on the frequency.

"What the hell’s going on?" Leonard repeated.

"Chekov, see if you can boost the signal and reach the ship."

"Aye, _Keptin_." Chekov and Sulu got to work, while Jim started scanning the skies.

“Still no life forms on the scanner?” Jim asked, not exactly acknowledging Leonard, but it was enough to break their two hour-long silence.

“Nothing,” Leonard said, after glancing at his readings. “The place is a ghost town, Jim."

“Let’s head to that building and see if we can reach Enterprise using their communications. Stick to the trees, don’t stray too far from cover.” Jim pointed to the largest structure in the settlement. Hendorff and Ruthers nodded, and started to head in that direction. "Mr. Chekov, anything?"

"Negative, sir."

"Let's move. We'll try again in there."

Sulu and Chekov followed Jim's orders without question, and trailed after the two tacticians.

Leonard was beginning to think he was invisible. Jim had yet to acknowledge any of his questions or even his presence, not until he realized Leonard wasn't following behind him. When Jim turned around, his eyes met Leonard's and it was as though he was seeing Leonard for the first time since they arrived on the planet.

Leonard stood with arms up in the air in question waiting for Jim to explain what the hell was happening.

"Dr. McCoy, I gave you a direct order."

"I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on." Jim was starting to scare Leonard. Of course there had been many missions where they'd run into trouble, and Jim did his duty with aplomb but was usually gregarious about it. Right now, he was closed down with a lethal air about him, and Leonard had only seen this side of him once before, over five years ago after Pike was killed.

"It wasn’t a suggestion, Doctor, it was an order," Jim snapped. "Move."

Leonard's heart felt like it was breaking in two. Jim's jaw was clenched tight waiting for Leonard to react. It wasn't anger that spilled from Jim, it was fear. He saw it in Jim’s eyes when Leonard briefly looked at him before shifting his gaze to Leonard’s feet. It was all Leonard needed for his body to listen, hastening him toward Jim until he was standing only a few inches away.

"Jim…"

"Don’t, Bones. I can't do this and keep you and everyone safe at the same time. I let this thing between us cloud my judgement." He showed Leonard his hand, and the bloodstains mixed with the dirt. So, that's what he had seen on the ground.

"Okay, Jim." It was all Leonard needed to say. With those two words, Leonard spoke volumes. He trusted Jim to get them out of this and he loved Jim because he was the only man who could get them out of it.

They walked in silence, trailing behind the others while Leonard continued to scan for life forms. When they were about fifty meters away from the building, still using the trees for cover, Jim slowed looking up to the sky.

"My ship's up there, Bones, and I have no idea what's happening."

Leonard wanted to smart back that he knew the feeling, but felt his sarcasm was not welcome at the moment. "Spock's in command. He probably figured everything out 6.42 minutes faster than you did."

Jim smiled, just a little.

"You going to fill me in?" Leonard asked.

"I'm not sure, not until I speak to Spock, but that ion storm is not a coincidence."

"Please tell me it's not another unclassified Romulan ship with a homicidal maniac from the future hell-bent on revenge."

"Worse," Jim snorted. "Klingons."

"Klingons? You sure?"

"Pretty sure. I've read every report out there on cloaking devices, even the ones dismissed by Starfleet. Klingon warbirds definitely have that technology. In one report I came across, there was a theory about electrical charges when multiple ships are cloaked in upper atmospheres of a planet. There's the potential for a charge separation in the clouds, like a negative charge in the lower region and positive charge in the upper. The intensity of the electrical field is related to the amount of charge buildup in the cloud. It takes a hell of a lot of energy to cloak a ship. The ships are charged like giant capacitors."

"Meaning they draw lightning," Leonard offered.

"Exactly," Jim said. "This planet is on the edge of the neutral zone. It's not a stretch to assume they're here."

"Especially when Starfleet is hoping Dytallix B is rich in dilithium. Do you think the scientists discovered some?"

"You read the details of the mission?"

"Of course I did." Leonard rolled his eyes. "I always do."

"I never should have made you come," Jim said, looking back toward the buildings.

"Hey,” Leonard said, grabbing Jim’s arm, “I was coming whether you ordered me or not. I go where you go, remember?"

"I was angry, Bones. I'm sorry."

“Me too, Jim. Me too.” Leonard wanted to pull Jim into his arms, and let all this regret go. This wasn’t who they were, the captain and the doctor, Jim and Bones, be damned. They were better than this. He’d let this stunt get away from him and now they were more than likely going to pay for it.

"Just get us out of this damn mess," Leonard said instead of doing what he really wanted to do. The fear was still there in Jim’s eyes, but only for a split second before it disappeared by the mask, never to be seen again on this mission.

Leonard had been attacking this whole “strike” thing from the wrong angle. He’d made it adamantly clear this was strictly professional, but in his heart he knew it wasn’t. This had everything to do with Jim never putting their relationship first, and never thinking about their future and whether or not he was going to be around to share it with Leonard. There was no regard for what Leonard went through every time Jim put himself in harm’s way.

He’d tried over the years to sit down with Jim and discuss this, but Jim never listened, so this time, his infuriation had gotten the better of him. This was a discussion that should have happened inside their quarters as Jim and Bones, not some ridiculous strike declaration where Jim would never take it seriously. It had nothing to do with a frustrated CMO and a reckless captain who always led the way in every charge. As a doctor, it was Leonard’s job to treat the captain, and as a husband it was Leonard’s job to raise concerns when his partner continued to risk his life. He wished he could grab Jim by the scruff of the neck and drag him back to the Enterprise and back to their quarters to discuss this rationally, but it was too late for that now. It would be hours before they would be back aboard Enterprise, and then they'd be too exhausted to talk, or if Leonard’s imaginings took hold they might never make it back and all of this bickering would be the last thing between them. Leonard was only coming to this realization now while they were standing on the edge of an abandoned settlement on an unfamiliar planet, feeling utterly exposed, physically and emotionally.

“Captain,” Sulu interrupted Leonard, “I’m picking up life forms in that building, or underneath I should say.” He pointed to the smallest gray building that was nestled against the low-lying mountain.

"Chekov?" Jim asked, indicating the comm.

"Sorry, _Keptin_ , still nothing."

"Okay, then. We have to assume we're on our own for now. And there may be hostile forces on the planet with us."

Chekov swallowed and he looked much younger than twenty-two. He was the same age now as Jim was when he joined Starfleet. Even with five years of deep space exploration, Chekov still looked like a baby-faced kid.

"What does everyone know about Klingons?" Jim asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"They hate you?" Sulu said.

Leonard had to laugh, because it was true. They had run into Klingons a few times in their five-year mission, and Jim always seemed to piss them off. Something about their honor and Jim's lack of it when it came to fighting the odds. Not to mention the run-in on Kronos. As much as space was vast and a lot of it unexplored, word travelled fast, especially when it involved a Klingon patrol being wiped out and a Starfleet captain masquerading as a black arms dealer.

"Not very helpful, Mr. Sulu," Jim said.

"But pretty damn accurate," Leonard added, and Jim could only give Leonard a pointed glare.

"We have to assume their ship sensors have picked up the Enterprise," Jim continued, "and their bioscanners have located our presence on the planet. I’m also betting those life forms Mr. Sulu discovered are the surviving colonists who managed to escape the raid. They must have fled down into the mine. Let’s hope the Klingons haven’t declared war on a Starfleet ship, and Mr. Spock is equally trying to restore our communications. The Klingons are more than likely here for the dilithium, if that's what the scientists found. We're going to need to find out what happened to our people."

"Do you think the Klingons took them?" Chekov asked.

"Klingons don't take prisoners."

"No, they usually do not, Mr. Hendorff, but regardless if they did, we need to find them and ensure their safety."

“While trying to avoid a war with the Klingons,” Leonard mumbled. “Wonderful.”

“That, too, Bones.” Jim smiled then turned to Chekov. Leonard could practically see the wheels turning in Jim’s head. “Mr. Chekov, let’s get you to their communications building so you can take advantage of the equipment. I need to know if my ship’s all right." Jim's tone was light, but it was forced which made Leonard uneasy.

=/\=

It had only been a matter of minutes since they had entered the communications building, and instead of worrying a groove into the floor with his pacing, Leonard rested against the wall with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. He watched Jim out of the corner of his eye working with Chekov and Sulu and continuing to ignore Leonard. With every passing second they waited to hear from the Enterprise, Leonard wanted to pull Jim aside and apologize for his behavior. They had been on countless away missions together, and never once did Jim betray his emotions like this. The fear in Jim's eyes had been real, and Leonard wondered if Jim was feeling the same regret he was feeling. They never should have carried on they way they had these past few weeks, and they definitely shouldn't have dragged the ship, the crew and their professional relationship into their personal business.

What seemed to be Leonard's biggest problem was figuring out if Jim was his captain first and husband second, or the other way around. It had never been an issue, but now that they were ending their five-year mission, it was something Leonard was being forced to think about. In space, Jim and Leonard were complete for the most part, happy to be the captain and the doctor, and their dynamic was easy enough to figure out. Back on Earth, without a ship or rank, Leonard feared being a husband first wouldn't be enough for either of them, and the thought of facing any kind of life without Jim was too daunting for Leonard to imagine.  

"I think we got it." Sulu's enthusiasm was a welcome change for Leonard.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

_Spock here._

"Spock, damage report."

_All systems normal, Captain. Other than temporary loss of communications. Were you expecting otherwise?_

"The colony is empty, Spock. It's safe to assume foul play has occurred. Have you been able to determine the cause of the ion storm on the other side of the planet? It must be interfering with our communicators."

_Negative, Captain. Our sensors haven't been able to detect the cause of the lightning surges._

"Spock, I think it's cloaked warbirds."

_Indeed, Captain._

Leonard pictured the Vulcan sitting straight backed in Jim's chair with those damn eyebrows raised while his expression would be one of curiosity even if Spock would never admit to it.

_Shall I alert Starfleet?_

"Not yet, Spock. Weapons department, battle stations and all other decks standby alert."

_Yes, Captain. Shall we beam you back aboard._

Leonard closed his eyes, hoping for the answer he wanted to hear, even though he knew what Jim would say.

"Negative. We've got to find out what happened to the colonists. I want a search party of twenty tactical personnel—"

An explosion rocked the room and the ground beneath them, knocking them off their feet from the force of the detonation, sending glass and debris showering down upon them. It caused a ringing in Leonard's ears that cut out all sound around him. Silence reigned, and for the first few moments all Leonard could do was blink while he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. He examined himself, noticing the shards of glass everywhere and the few pieces that had made it through his uniform to the surface of his skin. They were superficial cuts, nothing too serious, but the same couldn't be said for his crewmates.

 


	8. Chapter 8

"Jim!" Leonard managed to get to his feet, even though the ringing in his ears kept him somewhat disoriented.  His voice sounded muffled, but he continued to yell Jim’s name, turning frantically in circles until he caught sight of the others in the room. He didn't see Jim or Ruthers, but Sulu and Hendorff seemed unharmed, only cuts and scratches like he had. Chekov must have hit his head when he fell, though. The kid was lying on his side with a bleeding gash on his temple and he wasn't moving. Leonard still couldn't hear anything and he doubted anyone else could, he didn't know where Jim was or even if he was all right, but Chekov was the first person he saw who needed his help, so he grabbed his medkit and got to work.

"Chekov," Leonard said. "Pavel, can you hear me?" Leonard ran his tricorder over Chekov to rule out any serious damage to his spine before he moved him. His spine was intact and there weren't any broken bones, but there was an epidural hematoma that was causing too much pressure in his intracranial space.

Leonard cursed, and then all at once the sound returned to Leonard's ears with a clarity that made him jump. It was like his ears had popped, and if he wasn't a doctor, he might have thought they were bleeding as bad as the kid's brain.

Chekov's eyes started to flutter open. "Chekov, can you hear me?" he asked again. Chekov blinked a few times and Leonard noticed his left pupil was enlarged.

"Sorry, sir—Doctor. I'm okay," Chekov said, trying to get up.

"Easy, now," Leonard said, holding him back down. "You have a pretty nasty bump on your head." Leonard didn't get to say anything else before Chekov slipped under again, losing consciousness.

As Leonard used what tools he had to help relieve the pressure on Chekov's skull, he was aware of someone hovering over him. Turning, he saw Jim standing behind him with blood running down the side of his face. He was favoring his left arm and the bottom of his pants looked like they'd been through a shredder, but he was whole and that's all Leonard could have hoped for.

"Bones," he said, but the relief Leonard felt at hearing Jim's voice was temporary. Jim's eyes were sad with the knowledge of something grim. Leonard stood up, following Jim to the other side of the room where he saw the red shirt, and the blood it was soaked with. A shard of glass had penetrated Ruthers' carotid artery.

"Do something, Bones," Jim whispered.

Leonard bent down to check Ruthers' pulse to be sure, but he already knew before he placed his fingers on the man’s neck. "He's dead, Jim."

"Enterprise isn't responding," Jim said. "We have to move. Whoever is responsible for this will be looking for survivors."

"We have to get Chekov to the ship, Jim. He won't make it if we don't get him some decent care within the hour. I can only do so much with the tools I have."

"Sulu," Jim said, "try to raise the Enterprise again. Hendorff, set up a defensive position at the window. Stay alert. Phasers on stun. I want to know who these bastards are and what they're doing."

Ruthers’ death put a gravity on the situation Leonard wasn't quite ready to accept. The only thing that mattered was here and now. The politics from the ship were pushed aside for the moment, both of them slipping into their defining roles. Leonard went back to Chekov's side, determined not to let another death be a burden Jim would have to carry. When he was satisfied with his attempts to slow the bleed, his attention turned back to Jim to tend his wounds.

"Jim, you're a mess. Come here," Leonard said, pulling him down to sit on the desk. The bleeding from the cut at his hairline had stopped, but his shoulder would need to be popped back into place.

"I'm fine, Bones."

"Yeah, well, humor me. If this turns any uglier, you're going to need the use of that arm." Leonard poked at Jim's injured arm to make his point. Jim flinched, glaring until he had Leonard rolling his eyes.

"This probably isn't going to hurt _you_ ," Leonard said, motioning Jim to tuck his arm in tight. "Nothing you haven't experienced six times over, if memory serves."

Jim snorted, but straightened his back, and took a deep breath to brace for the pain. "Do your worst, Bones."

Leonard took hold of Jim's wrist and elbow, bending his injured arm ninety degrees while keeping it flushed against Jim's side. He started to rotate Jim's arm outward until he felt some resistance. "Lucky number seven, Jim." Leonard smiled down at him. He hated this part. The more Jim held back the pain, the more it seemed to affect Leonard. "Ready?" He lifted the rotated bent elbow as forward as possible, then turned it inward until he heard the pop as the humerus moved back into the glenoid.

The only noise Jim made was a low grunt at the sound of the pop, but it went straight to Leonard's gut. "Dammit, Jim."

"Lucky seven, Bones," Jim repeated his words, turning his head toward Ruthers' body. "Not so lucky at all." Jim's uninjured hand came to rest on Leonard's hip for a brief moment, patting it gently while he caught his breath. Jim still favored his arm when he stood up, but at least he would have some range back.

_Enterprise to Captain Kirk._

Jim ran to Sulu, clapping him on the back for his miracle work. "Spock! We’re under attack. Three to beam up. Have medical standing by. Lock on to Dr. McCoy and Mr. Chekov, and,” he paused for a moment, “the body of Ensign Ruthers. Beam them aboard. And send twenty tactical personnel to my coordinates."

"Now wait a minute, Jim!” Leonard protested. “You can't be serious. You're not going to stay down here, not after what just happened. Think, man. Let's be logical about this. You don't know what you're facing."

"I need to find those colonists. We need to know what's happened down here, and if there are survivors in those tunnels they need our help."

"Then assess the situation from the ship. You're injured. You just lost a man…"

"I know _exactly_ what I've lost, Bones. That's why I have to stay."

"Goddamnit, Jim! This is what I've been trying to tell you these past few weeks. You don't think before—"

"Dr. McCoy!" Jim snapped. "That's enough. You are to beam back aboard the Enterprise with Ensign Chekov. That is an order."

"Kirk to Mr. Scott."

_Scott here, sir._

"Have you locked on to their signals?"

_Aye, Captain._

"Energize."

Leonard felt himself disappear along with his hope to make things right with Jim.

**=/\=**

Leonard was in the operating room, finishing up with Chekov, when he finally let his thoughts drift away from saving the kid's life. The surgery had gone well, and he assured his staff that the Russian whizkid's brain was intact and still smarter than the rest of them. Leonard never had time to digest the argument he had with Jim before he was ordered to beam back to the Enterprise.  Chekov was rushed into surgery, and everything Leonard had been feeling or thinking had been compartmentalized like always when it came to operating.

Leonard had lost track of time while he'd been in surgery, but from what he could tell it had been almost three hours since he was beamed back aboard. He didn't know if Jim was on the bridge or if he was even on the ship. He needed a status report, so he let Christine and M'Benga take over Chekov's care while he cleaned up to make his way to the bridge.

As he was changing into a new uniform, the klaxon siren rang throughout the ship, followed by Uhura's voice. "All hands, battle stations. Go to red alert."

The sickbay came alive as everyone jumped into battle mode.

"Christine," Leonard said, "stay with Chekov. Monitor his vitals. Comm me if anything changes."

"Yes, Doctor," she responded, keeping things professional even though he could see right through to her worry.

"McCoy to bridge."

_Spock here._

“What the hell is going on?” Leonard said, his hope deflating at the sound of Spock's voice. "Where's the Captain? Is he back aboard?"

_Negative, Doctor. The captain is still on the planet with the tactical team._

"Well, beam him back, goddamnit!"

_That is impossible, Doctor. There is too much interference from the ion storm._

“What the hell do you mean by that?"

_We have lost all contact with the away team._

"When?" Leonard's voice was tight with desperation.

There was a pause before Spock answered. _Seventy-three minutes and thirty-six seconds._

Leonard took off running out of sickbay and headed toward the bridge. He didn't care what anyone thought of him as he sprinted through the corridors, his only thought was that he might be arrested for mutiny when he strangled a first officer so he could take control of the ship and this mission. Bursting through the doors, he arrived on the bridge disheveled and out of breath.

Spock seemed unaffected by Leonard's sudden appearance, but Leonard had gotten to know his tell over the years, and Spock almost seemed sympathetic. At least as sympathetic as a Vulcan could be. "Dr. McCoy, I must insist you report to medical and prepare for battle."

“Leonard," Uhura turned in her chair, "is Chekov okay?”

"He'll be fine." Leonard waved a dismissal at Spock, making his way to Uhura. “What's going on?"

"We're coming under attack. Three Klingon warbirds on our screen and an unidentified vessel."

"What about Jim?" Leonard asked. "Bioscans?"

"We're not picking up anything from the planet," Uhura answered, but she was afraid to look him in the eye.

"Commander," Ensign Brackett said, "the unidentified ship is closing in. They've raised their defensive shields and armed their torpedoes."

"Ready phasers, Mr. Froman."

_Kirk to Ent--pr-se!_

"Spock here, Captain."

_Lock on tra-sport-rs. Be-m us up!_

"Captain, we have come in contact with three Klingon warbirds and an unidentified vessel. We cannot beam you aboard without lowering our shields."  The only sound was static over the comm. "Lieutenant Uhura, secure that frequency."

"Yes, sir." Uhura tapped away at her screen then stopped, holding her earpiece for confirmation. "Communications restored."

_Spock! You protect my ship!_

"Captain, are you under attack?" Spock asked.

_Don't you worry about us. Keep those deflector shields up. That's an order!_

It sounded as though Jim was out of breath, winded and breathing with some difficulty. Leonard started to protest, but was cut off by Spock.

"Affirmative, Captain."

_Warp out if you have to. Just don't forget about us. Come back when the ship is out of danger. Kirk out._

Leonard knew there was something wrong with Jim. He recognized the level of pain in his voice when he spoke, and it was the kind of pain that turned Leonard ghostly pale.  He stepped around the console toward the Captain's chair where Spock was sitting.

“Dr. McCoy, as acting captain, my orders are for you to return to sickbay.”

“Goddamnit, Spock! The captain is down there, and he’s injured. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones. If he stays down there any longer he’s going to die. Now, I'm not saying you do anything foolish, but no one's firing at us, are they? You could lower those shields and Scotty could beam them up faster than those ships could fire their photon torpedoes. In case you’ve forgotten, there were people trying to kills us down there!”

“I assure you, Doctor, my memory is sound. Lowering our shields would not only be insubordinate, it would be foolish. I have my orders, and so do you. Return to sickbay.”

Folding his arms, Leonard dared Spock to physically remove him from the bridge. “Well, I don’t agree with you, Spock.”

“That is nothing new, Doctor.” Spock sat back in his chair, unaffected by Leonard's disobedience.

"What do the Klingons want?" Leonard asked.

"Their position is undetermined. They have not answered our hails."

“Who's on the other ship?”

“Also, undetermined, Doctor.”

“What the hell _do_ you know?” Leonard's arms were animated, but not as much as his eyes. They were close to bugging out of his head.

“I assure you, a fair amount, but at this moment none of the answers you are seeking.”

“Aw, stuff it, you hobgoblin! The least you could do is show some compassion. Jim is in trouble.”

“Compassion is a pointless emotion in this scenario, Doctor. Compassion will not get the captain back, and it will certainly not help if the Enterprise comes under fire.” He tilted his head, watching Leonard’s face turn from shock to fury in a matter of seconds.

Leonard lunged for Spock’s throat.

Spock was right about one thing, compassion was a pointless emotion, rage, on the other hand, was a very powerful one. Leonard wanted to rip the pointed ears off of the heartless bastard’s head. He’d had enough of people telling him what to do, and enough of feeling helpless. This outrage was an emotion he could handle, and directing it toward Spock seemed to be proving extremely helpful.

There were shouts on the bridge, mostly from Uhura as she tried to hold Leonard back from attacking their acting captain. He didn’t want to listen to reason though, only wanted to act on all this aggression and fear that had been building up.

He’d never been on the receiving end of a Vulcan nerve pinch. He’d studied the hell out of them, mostly for Jim’s sake to make sure there was no lasting damage, and if there was one thing Jim hadn’t exaggerated was that the touch was quick and painless.

Leonard met the deck of the bridge hard and fast.

=/\=

Leonard came to, lying in sickbay on top of the “James T. Kirk Revival Bed.” His neck was a bit stiff, and his head was a little fuzzy, but it only took a moment for him to get his bearings and to remember everything that had happened. Then his outrage came flooding back. The room was surprisingly empty, but it didn’t stop the ruckus he intended to cause.

“That green-blooded bastard! Where is he?” Leonard was yelling so his voice would carry throughout the oddly empty sickbay, hoping wherever his staff had gotten to they could hear him. He did happen to notice the ship was whole, and the klaxon was silent which meant he'd either been out for hours, or they had successfully avoided a war with the Klingons. He didn't care how Spock managed it, or if they were still in the thick of things, he only wanted to continue his attempts at throttling the bastard. He started searching through drawers, looking for a hypospray that would take out that goddamn Vulcan and show him Leonard had his own way of rendering someone unconscious.

Before he could find what he was looking for or yell anything more, Christine was at his side, her face pale and drawn.

“Leonard,” she said placing a hand on his arm. It was all she needed to say and Leonard knew his whole world was about to be upended. The floor began to spin underneath him, and the lights glared bright like they were drilling right into his skull. Dread took over his anger, and a tingling feeling appeared at the back of his neck causing a cold sweat to break out all over his body. He thought he could smell the scent of blood in the air, sharp, like rust and it caused his stomach to turn.

“Where is he?” Leonard’s hands clung to Christine’s forearms.

“Being prepped for surgery.”

Leonard spun around, facing the operating room. The walls had been shielded so no one could see inside. Leonard ran toward the console, hysterically pushing the buttons to override the display and within seconds the walls turned transparent, allowing Leonard to see inside the room.

“Leonard, you can’t go in there,” Christine said.

There was a team of six dressed in operating scrubs in the room, all huddled around a biobed. On it was a naked and lifeless Jim, covered in blood from a gaping wound down his side. Leonard couldn’t see Jim’s vitals from where he stood, but it only took a second to call them up on the console in front of him.

Jim had a massive puncture wound to his abdomen, and from what Leonard could tell it had nearly speared him in two. Jim was in tachycardia with his blood pressure plummeting. He had a blood loss of forty-two percent and was in hypovolemic shock. It was clear to Leonard, and everyone in the room, his husband, their captain, wasn’t likely to make it.

“M’Benga has a good team…” Christine said, but Leonard heard the doubt in her voice even though she tried to mask it.

Leonard pushed the comm to the room.

"Don't you dare touch him!" The force of his yell could’ve broken glass if the walls had been made of it. Everyone in the operating room jumped at Leonard’s command, turning to face him with terrified expressions on their faces.

Leonard was through the door before any of them moved a muscle. Christine followed behind Leonard, silently prepping him for surgery and directing others to help.

No one questioned Leonard’s actions or demands, only moving out of his way as he made his way toward Jim.

Jim was barely conscious, probably shocked awake by the sound of Leonard’s shouting, but he managed a smile, his eyelids fluttering while he tried to fight the anesthesia M’Benga had just given him.

“No...strike...Bones?"

"I'd never give you up, you stubborn son of a bitch. Not even to death. But you knew that, you little shit. Count to ten. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He leaned in to gently kiss Jim, ignoring the blood pooling on the side of his mouth. “Just like always."

Jim obeyed for once, and started counting with a smile still on his lips.

Before getting to work, Leonard put everything aside and pulled from that warrior place deep inside of him he reserved for battles such as these. This was going to be another fight with death, but this time he was a veteran and so was Jim. “I’m fresh out of superhuman blood, Jim. We’re going to have to do this on our own.” It was a whispered prayer to whoever might be listening before he led the charge.

 


	9. Chapter 9

It turned out the Klingon Empire wasn't trying to start a war with the Federation, only a rogue ship and a captain without any honor. While docked at Deep Space Station K7, a Klingon patrol caught wind of a plot to steal the dilithium on Dytallix B, and kill the colonists. Normally this wasn't the Empire's concern, but when they discovered one of their captains was in league with human smugglers, the Empire deemed it their responsibility to intervene, if only to restore their honor. No self-respecting Klingon would align themselves with humans who wanted to kill defenseless humans and children.

With rumors of forthcoming peace talks between the Empire and the Federation, the business on Dytallix B would jeopardize everything both sides had been tentatively working toward. The Empire had sent two ships to patrol the planet and stop the turncoat captain and his ship from working with the human smugglers before the Federation discovered what was happening. Their plans to keep the operation quiet had been foiled when the Enterprise showed up and beamed down to the planet.

While Leonard had been in surgery, saving Chekov's life, Jim and his tactical team had entered the mines to locate the colonists. While they were getting them out, they had come into contact with the rogue Klingons and the smugglers who had infiltrated the colony. They had planned to kill everyone and steal the dilithium reserves, but Jim and his team put up a fortified resistance. The smugglers knew there was a Federation ship orbiting the planet, and also knew the Empire had sent two ships of their own. The only way they were going to get off the planet was with some high-powered leverage.  They were intent on taking Starfleet hostages, especially an infamous captain.

Jim and his team had been trapped in the mines without any means to communicate with the Enterprise. The only way out was to fight the bastards. It was a bat’leth blade that almost cut Jim in two. It went deep and was intent to kill him when it was clear Jim's team was overpowering them. But the son of a bitch was tougher than that.

When Jim and his team finally found their way to the surface and restored communications, Jim had hailed the Enterprise to discover the ship was on red alert. The damn fool was bleeding to death when he made that call, and he knew it, too.

Once again Jim had sacrificed himself for the many.

Leonard heard the report from Hendorff as soon as he'd gotten out of surgery. He was still furious with Jim, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Jim's bedside. He should have been used to the waiting, silently watching Jim's chest rise and fall and listening to the sound of the soft beeps monitor his heart rate. But the truth was Leonard would never be able to get used to it. He didn't want to be familiar with the deep bruising on Jim's chest and face against his pale skin, or the days of recovery while Jim gained his strength. A part of Leonard would always break each time Jim's heart stopped beating. And it did—twice—during his surgery.

Leonard felt Jim's hand stirring underneath his, only a couple of twitches but enough for Leonard to know he was coming to.

"Bones." Jim's voice was deep and raw, cracked around the edges. He hadn't even opened his eyes, but he knew it was Leonard holding his hand. It would always be Leonard. "I'm sorry."

"Don't try to talk, Jim. You need your rest."

"No," he tried to shake his head, "I need to tell you this. I need you to understand why I do it."

"I know why you do it," Leonard said, sweeping Jim's hair off his forehead. "It's the man you are. Who you'll always be."

Jim winced when a shot of pain took hold of him. Leonard leaned in to adjust Jim's medication to ease his suffering a little, but Jim's hand stopped him. "No more painkillers, Bones. I don’t want to sleep."

"You don't get to make that call right now."

Leonard pressed a few buttons, then Jim's eyes fluttered shut pulling him under once again. It was unfair and probably somewhat unethical of him to put Jim under just so he didn't have to talk to him. Jim was out of danger and out of the worst of it. There was no reason for Leonard to have done what he did, other than he wasn't ready to face everything that had happened. He was being a coward, but he was still too angry with Jim to have a lucid conversation with him without yelling. Jim’s lifeless, pale body had brought to surface all those feelings he had when Jim died over five years ago, only this time the stakes were much higher. Jim was his husband, his partner for life, not just his captain and his friend.  There was no magic elixir this time. If Jim died it would be permanent and it would rip a hole in Leonard so wide he might as well shove himself out an airlock because there would be no saving him either.

Leonard was the one who had to fight for Jim. He would never trust anyone else to do it. Sitting on the sidelines was not something he could ever do, not only when it came to Jim, but any patient who came through his sickbay doors. He wasn't a bench kind of person…and neither was Jim.  The two of them were cut from the same cloth, just tasked to do different things. In his heart he knew this, he just had to let his head catch up, well, at least until Jim woke up again.

"I saw that, Leonard," Christine said from behind him. "He's going to be pissed off when he wakes up."

"He'll have to get in line," Leonard growled.

Leonard felt her hand on his shoulder, it was warm and comforting and he hated it. He wanted to shrug away, but it wasn't the kind of action a CMO should exhibit. He didn't want to be comforted, he didn't deserve it, not until he could talk this over with Jim. Christine must have felt his reluctance because her hand slid across his shoulders until she was pulling him into her arms.

"You did good, Leonard," she whispered in his ear. "Real good."

Trembling, he leaned into her, burying his face in the side of her neck. His legs wanted to buckle underneath him, but Christine wouldn't let them.

“I almost lost him.”

"But you didn’t,” she said. Holding him close, she let Leonard take what he needed. When she felt him gain his strength back she whispered one last thing. “He's never going to change.”

"Tell me something I don't know."

She laughed, finally releasing him with a twinkle in her eye.

"So, how much did you win?"

She glanced away briefly, and when she looked back there was a warmth in her cheeks, but she was smiling. "Enough for you and the captain to have a nice mini vacation on our next shore leave."

"Hmpf," Leonard shook his head, "I should hope so."

"Why don't you go and get some rest. You're dead on your feet." She placed a hand on his shadowed cheek, rubbing at the scruff that had grown in the last twenty-four hours. "He'll be out awhile, you made sure of that. I'll comm you when he's awake."

"I'd stay and argue with you, so I can revel in telling Jim off while he's under and can’t yell back, but I’m so goddamn tired I think I'll actually listen for once."

"Hmpf," she said, mirroring him. "I should goddamn hope so."

**=/\=**

Leonard woke with a start. His quarters were dark, but there was someone in the room with him. His hand reached automatically to the space beside him, but the bed was empty.

"Jim?" he asked, then ordered the lights at twenty percent. "What in hell are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. You need to be resting." Throwing the covers back, he was at Jim's side guiding him toward the bed. "Who released you?"

"Don't be angry, Bones."

"I’m not. Come here." Leonard helped him onto his side of the bed, then crawled in beside him pulling the covers up around them. "Are you in pain?"

"Not really," Jim said. "And that was a dirty trick, by the way."

Leonard ignored him, because he had no defense for what he did other than being chicken shit. "I should get you back to sickbay. Check you over."

"I'm okay. Let me stay, Bones. I just needed to see you. I don't want to fight anymore, not ever."

"We weren't fighting."

"Yes we were. And I hated it."

"Well, I'd hate a kick to the face, too." They were facing each other, about a foot apart and it was too far for Leonard. Pulling Jim a little closer, he entwined their legs together and rested his hand on Jim's hip touching skin just below the hem of his shirt.  "By the way, how _was_ your stomach after that pound of bacon?"

Jim groaned. "Don't remind me. I think it's fair to say you won't have to worry about my cholesterol anytime soon. Bacon is off the menu for a while."

"Moron."

They laid in silence for some time, Leonard tracing lazy circles with his thumb on Jim's hip. If he didn't know Jim's breathing patterns so well, he might have thought he'd fallen asleep.

"I need you to know why I do it," Jim finally said.

"No, I don't. Not anymore."

"But you do, Bones, because this same argument will keep coming up until eventually you're going to get sick of me and one day you're going to wake up and decide you've had enough. And I can’t live with that."

"Jim—"

"Just hear me out."

Leonard made a noncommittal grunt but stayed quiet.

"When Pike died," Jim said, his voice was still rasped and tired, but his pulse was strong. "I was sent a book from his estate. He’d left it to me in his will."

"You never told me this."

Jim’s face was cast in shadow but Leonard could still see his sad smile. "I never meant to keep it from you, it was just something that was mine and Chris’. I wanted to protect that. It had come while I was in the hospital…recovering, so it meant more to me than I can possibly say.

"Do you know that before Chris died, he told me I was irresponsible, that I wasn't ready to be a leader? He said I didn’t deserve to be in the chair."

"Jim…"

"No, Bones," he said. "He was right. And I never got a chance to show him otherwise.”

“He knows.”

"I'm not sure about that.” Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His breath was warm and a little stale from the anesthesia and surgery, but it was reassuring all the same.

“Are we going to argue about this?” Leonard asked. “Or are you going to tell me what this book was?”

Jim slowly opened his eyes and found Leonard's again. “The book came with a simple note. It said: Be that man, son." Jim's voice was raw with emotion, and he took a moment to collect himself. Leonard reached for his hand intertwining their fingers, waiting until Jim felt comfortable enough to continue. "It was a memoir from a soldier in the twentieth century. He was a major with the American army during World War II. The book is in safe keeping on Earth. Apart from you, it's my most prized possession." He squeezed Leonard's hand. "The book is so old, it's impossible to read from it. I had to read the digital copy so I wouldn’t ruin it. The book is more like a bible for the men in Pike's family. His past is in that book, where he came from and he gave it to me. Chris never had any children, and he entrusted me with his legacy. The inside cover contains the names of generations of Pike men dating back over three centuries, and my name has to sit underneath Chris' and all the others who came before him. Each of them was a leader in their own right, and I have to be worthy of them. And I have to be worthy of the soldier who wrote that book."

Leonard felt the lump in his throat and had to look away so Jim wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. Although the sentiment of the book was something Leonard was having difficulty putting into words, the burden it carried definitely could be defined. The problem with Jim was that his life began with a deck stacked against him. No matter what he did, no matter how many lives and worlds he saved, he would never think he was worthy of calling himself a hero.

"That soldier's story was one of the bravest things I've ever read. It changed my life, Bones. Not only did it bring me to you, it made me see things clearly about what it meant to be a true leader."

It was a surprise to hear that a book was responsible for bringing the two of them together, but if Jim received the book while he was recovering then the timeline fit. Leonard always attributed Jim’s death to his change in perspective. Death had a way of doing that. It was what made Leonard realize how much he loved Jim. The moment he heard Jim’s heart beating again, he knew he didn’t want to waste another moment without Jim in his life beyond what their friendship provided. It had taken Jim about a month longer after his release from the hospital to come to his senses how he felt about Leonard.  One night he showed up on Leonard’s doorstep close to midnight. When Leonard opened the door, Jim said nothing as he stepped inside. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright like he’d run the entire way. His gaze was fixed on Leonard’s and the two stood facing each other without saying a word for a full minute before Jim broke the silence.

“You love me.” It was the first thing Jim said.

Leonard couldn’t deny it and didn’t want to, so he raised his eyebrow and with a frown on his lips, he nodded. He waited for Jim to laugh, or walk back out the door, but he continued staring with an intensity that went right through Leonard.

“Good.” It was the only other thing Jim said before he was on Leonard, his mouth hard and insistent until Leonard gave in and took him to his bed.

All that because of a damn book. Leonard was going to need to read this book.

"Since Pike’s death, each day I wake up,” Jim said, bringing Leonard back to the present, “I try to be a person of character and competence, and live my life with courage. It's a struggle every day, believe me, I wasn't cut out for it.”

“You’ve never been a coward and never could be,” Leonard said. “We’ve got over nine hundred people still alive who’d argue against you. Not to mention the other planets out there.”

“It’s not because of me, Bones. I just happened to gather the right people in my team to help me be that person. We respect each other and I trust them implicitly, and in order for them to trust me, I need them to know I'll do everything in my power to keep them safe. I'm the one who has to look in the mirror every night and ask myself if I did my very best that day, and if I didn't then I potentially risk the lives of everyone on my ship."

“Ruthers’ death was not your fault,” Leonard voiced the words Jim couldn’t. “I don’t think you’ve ever had a day where you haven’t given your best, Jim. Even when you’re being a reckless fool, you’re the best reckless fool out of everyone.” Leonard chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against Jim’s. They shared soft kisses, gentle without any urgency, and when they stopped, they lay in silence until Jim felt compelled to break it again.

"I know you want me to stay behind and be the kind of captain who commands from the bridge, Bones, but I can't expect people to follow me unless I'm out in front."

"I know, Jim. And I never said that's what I wanted. I want a future with you, and it scares me shitless every time you go on a mission. I'm a nervous wreck, because I know exactly who you are. You'll always be leading from the front. I’d never want to take that away from you. It’s who you are, and if you lose that you’ll lose yourself...lose who we are."

"Then what do you want me to do?”

Leonard sighed, rolling on to his back. "I don't know, Jim. I don't.”

“All that other stuff, you got it.” There was humor in his voice, but Leonard could tell he was sincere. “I’ll give in to your invasive exams, and your ridiculous diet requests. I’ll even be a compliant patient, but when it comes to my crew and this ship, and especially your life. I’ll do what I have to do to keep everyone safe."

“Well, maybe I want _you_ safe, Jim,” Leonard said, rubbing his chin, then pressing on his eyes. “I don’t know what the answer is, I wish I did. Maybe I want you to think about me, and a future with me beyond the hull of this ship. Do you even want that?”

“It’s all I want, Bones,” Jim whispered. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but that’s the only thing I think about when I make decisions. I’ll never be able to have that future with you and be at peace unless I become the man Pike believed in. I do all of this, _everything_ , so you’ll have a husband a man like you deserves.”

Leonard was fighting his emotions, but he wasn't alone. They both took a moment to collect themselves.

“Dammit, Jim,” Leonard said, but it wasn’t said with any of his usual fervor. “You are that man to me, always have been, you just refuse to see it like the rest of us do. The only thing you need to prove to me is that you’re never going to go gray or bald. Make us both live to see that, Jim.”

“You better plan on living a long time, old man.” Jim patted his own hair, pulling at the thick roots. “Because that’s never happening.” When they both stopped mocking each other, bantering back and forth about the merits of good genes and Orion hair potions, Jim’s eyes turned serious once again.

"I know it's against our rules, but we also need to talk about your insubordination down on that planet, Bones."

"Insubordination?" Leonard was a little taken back from that.

"You can't second guess my command decisions. You just can't, not in front of the crew. We don't bring ship politics into our quarters, and that's what allows this to work between us." Jim squeezed Leonard's hand. "And that also means we can't carry our marriage _outside_ of this room. We can’t let it interfere or this,” Jim pulled Leonard toward him, “won’t survive."

Leonard let Jim's words settle around them. There was a clarity there that Leonard had never felt before. Jim was right. Leonard had been carrying his emotions outside of these walls, something he had vowed on his wedding day never to do. He had to let go of his fears, or at least manage them better, or they would never get over this disparity between them.

“Bones," Jim whispered. "Can you trust me to always do my best to come back to you?”

Leonard brooded in his silence. He knew it was the most he was able to hope for from Jim. He could never ask Jim to change, all he could do was trust Jim to be the man he knew was there buried in Jim’s self-doubt.

“You make that promise, and I can live with that. I know what your best is, so I trust you to do your damndest to come back to me. ‘Cause, goddamn it, Jim, if you don’t, I'll dig up some of Khan's blood and cross death’s threshold again just so I can strangle you myself.”

Jim chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against Leonard’s. “I know you would, you stubborn jackass. That’s why I’m making this promise, so I won’t have to listen to you bitch and moan for eternity.”

Leonard pinched Jim’s hip causing him to squirm in his hold.

“Don’t start things you won’t finish,” Jim warned.

“What makes you think I won’t?”

Jim pulled back, his expression filled with surprise. “No doctor’s orders for bed rest?”

“You’re in a bed resting, aren’t you?” Leonard’s hand snaked its way underneath the elastic band of Jim’s flannel pants taking purchase on the flesh of his backside.

“Really?” Jim asked with a suspicious eye.

“I just need to feel you, Jim. You, the real you and the real me.”

“The real McCoy, huh?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“See?” Jim said with a twinkle in his eye. “You do think I’m an idiot!”

Before Jim could say anything else, Leonard’s mouth was on him, crushing and licking until his tongue was driving deep inside of Jim’s mouth. He wanted to make Jim pliant, make him beg Leonard for more, and Jim was happy to comply. Leonard took his time though, careful not to push Jim too far or too hard. He waited until there was a prickle of sweat covering both of their bodies before he tore his mouth from Jim’s. Placing his lips on every inch of Jim’s skin, Leonard slowly worked his way down the length of Jim’s body, stopping at the fresh pink scar where the bat’leth blade had cut right through him. Leonard’s tongue paid delicate attention to the line, like he was putting the final healing touches on it, while he tried to forget he had his hands buried inside of Jim only hours ago.

“Bones,” Jim gasped. “You’re killing me.”

The irony of those words were not lost on Leonard and his only response was to take Jim into his mouth without warning, reminding him he was very much alive. Jim’s fingers fisted Leonard’s hair, pulling at the roots as Leonard hummed around Jim’s cock. Leonard’s lips came up to the tip where he tongued Jim, circling a few times before swallowing him all the way to the hilt again.

“Stop. Stop. Stop,” Jim pleaded in whispers, pushing Leonard off of him. “I have energy for one, Bones, and I want you inside of me when it happens.”

Leonard didn’t waste anymore time with teasing, he prepped Jim and himself, taking extra care not to cause Jim further discomfort. Placing himself at Jim’s entrance, Leonard’s gaze trailed its way up Jim’s body, eventually resting on his face. Their eyes met, Jim’s wild and tender at the same time, and Jim gave a slight nod before Leonard pushed his way in, slowly but firmly, until he was buried completely inside of Jim. The heat around him was familiar and right, and he didn’t ever want to think about never having this again. Jim was all that was real in Leonard’s world, and if that was ever taken away from him before he was old and ready to part this world, Leonard would fight death again and again until he won every battle for Jim’s life.

“Bones...” Jim’s arms came up to his hips, encouraging Leonard to move.   

Leonard's thrusts were slow and steady at first, his eyes intent on watching Jim’s face slip from concentration to unadulterated ecstasy. He’d memorized that look over the years, and when he saw the pull in Jim’s eyebrows and the turn of his mouth, Leonard picked up his pace, driving into Jim, pushing them both to the edge and keeping them there until neither of them could hold on any longer. With one final cry, Leonard shifted his hips reaching the right spot to carry them both over until they had nothing left to give.

When they were both spent, they lay wrapped around each other with Leonard still inside of Jim. He was reluctant to pull out even though he needed to, if only to look at Jim’s beautiful, flushed face. When he finally caught his breath, Leonard managed to lift himself up on one arm, and sighed as he felt himself slip out. He gently brushed Jim’s sweat soaked hair off of his forehead before he placed a soft and tender kiss on his lips. He moved his hand possessively, yet lovingly, down the length of Jim’s body until it rested on the fresh, healing scar. Laying his hand flat, he found Jim’s eyes again. He wanted to say so many things, and for a fleeting moment he wanted to take back his acceptance of Jim’s promise, demanding Jim to keep himself safely tucked away on the bridge and to always to be with him. But as Leonard’s fingers caressed the newly regenerated skin, he was reminded that he was the caretaker of this body and always would be. Not Jim. Jim had too many bodies he was already accountable for. So Leonard swallowed his fears, and said the truth he needed Jim to hear.

“No matter how many times I have to fight for this body, or fix it up, these hands will heal it." Leonard traced the scar with delicate fingers, taking pleasure in the shameless whimpers he elicited from Jim. "I’ll never grow tired of it as long as you keep your promise."

"I promise."

"This body is mine, Jim.” Leonard’s voice was hushed, his mouth barely touching Jim’s lips. And he knew he was saying the right thing when Jim shivered underneath him and his pupils grew dark with intent.

“It’s yours, Bones.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**=/\=THE END STUFF=/\=**

 

It had been a few hours since Dr. McCoy had finally submitted his mission report of Dytallix B to the Captain. Jim had been back on duty for a few days now, demanding everyone hand in their reports so he could transmit them to Starfleet Command, but Leonard had been shirking his responsibilities, hoping to leave it as late as possible. He was the very last one to finish, citing he was trying to be thorough and precise. He had given an exhaustive account of what happened planetside, including Jim and Chekov's treatment, then he managed to write four pages detailing the procedures he had used in Chekov's surgery, then another seven pages for Jim's, and after all of that, he counted on Jim losing interest by the time he got to the incident on the bridge with Spock. He'd hope to bury it in procedure knowing the damn 'by-the-book' Vulcan would divulge exactly what had happened, including his insubordination and also how easily that half-blooded alien had neutralized him. He couldn't omit it, but he didn't want to call attention to it either.

Spock had probably submitted his report while Jim was recovering hours after his surgery. Jim would've known what happened between them without Leonard's side, but Jim was kind enough not to bring it up until Leonard officially submitted his to get both details of the account.

Leonard had been anxious since he had sent it, reorganizing the supply drawers, snapping at his nurses until Christine had banished him to his office where he contemplated having a liquid lunch. When the call came in to report to the captain's ready room, he felt relieved it was finally coming to head. As he walked toward the bridge, he played out the punishment scenarios in his head. He didn’t think he'd be court-martialed for what he'd done, not unless Spock was gunning for it, which he doubted, but then again he'd been avoiding Spock like a plague so he had no idea what was going on in the Vulcan's head.

Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for whatever was to come his way, then went into the room to meet his fate.

"Dr. McCoy," Jim greeted him with a smile from behind his desk when the doors whooshed close. Spock was sitting in one chair across from Jim, leaving the second free for Leonard. Seeing Spock for the first time since he'd violated him, Leonard realized he still hadn't forgiven him, in fact, his anger re-surfaced and he wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Clearly whoever said Vulcans showed no emotion never met a half-blooded one with the pomp and circumstance that Spock had. Even though Leonard was grateful to Spock for retrieving Jim in time to save his life, he still couldn't look past what the bastard had done.

"I thought you both would be happy to know the Klingons have accepted the Federation's terms," Jim began. "The human smugglers are to remain in our custody and will face trial, whereupon judgment will most likely be sent to the Tantalus colony.  We have returned the Klingon prisoners to the Empire. They will face no trial, but sent directly to the penal colony on Rura Penthe. They'll spend the rest of their lives mining dilithium." Jim smiled. "Fitting, don't you think?"

"Rura Penthe," Leonard said a little shocked. "That's a death sentence."

"I believe it is rumored to be worse than death," Spock added.

"The Klingons destroyed both ships to uphold their honor in the eyes of the Federation," Jim said. "The Enterprise didn't even fire a shot. Unconventional, but perhaps these rumored peace talks will go ahead one day."

"It does seem likely, Captain," Spock said.

Jim sat back in his chair, folding his hands and resting them on the desk. He looked at Spock, then finally rested his eyes on Leonard.

"I've read all of the reports from the mission," Jim said with a frown, and acknowledging Leonard's late submittal. "They all correspond apart from one."

Leonard felt his brow furrow with puzzlement from that bit of information. He wondered how different Spock's account could be from his own. Leonard had been honest in his report, even if it had been a little biased toward the Vulcan’s over-reaction of Leonard's emotional outburst, not to mention the violation of his body for the purpose of shutting him up. He reported everything as it happened, knowing there had been multiple witnesses to the incident and if he omitted anything there would be a discrepancy in the details of the report.

"How did you two manage without me?" Jim asked. "No problems between the two of you?"

"Well, there might've been a—"

"None worth reporting, Captain," Spock said, cutting Leonard off.

"None?" Jim asked with a smirk on his face, looking back at the PADD in front of him. "Are you sure?"

Leonard turned his gaze toward Spock, the shock of what he'd covered up was finally registering. "Spock—"

"I assure you, Captain, there was nothing of significance. Perhaps a minor disagreement based purely on heightened emotions, but that is to be expected when humans are involved."

"I see," Jim said. "Bones? Do you have anything you want to add?"

Spock's eyebrow rose in question and it gave Leonard's a run for its money. Spock said nothing else, and like usual, gave nothing else away. He simply waited for Leonard to answer the captain.

"No, Jim," Leonard said with a shake of his head. "I suppose I don't."

"Then perhaps you need to have another look at your report before I submit it to Command. Maybe you need to check your spelling." Jim was laughing deep down at Leonard, and Leonard couldn't help but roll his eyes at his own expense. All this time, he thought Jim had known what had happened on the bridge between him and Spock. But the damn Vulcan lied! What was that whole thing about Vulcans never lying, and now Jim knew exactly what went down because Leonard had divulged it thinking the Vulcan would rat him out.

He would never hear the end of it. Jim would taunt Leonard with this for years.

"Of course, _Captain_." Leonard reached for the PADD.

"Dismissed," Jim said, with that damn Kirk smirk on his face.

Spock and Leonard left the ready room, and as they made their way to the turbolift, Leonard turned to Spock.

"Well, I thought I'd never see the day. Spock, you lied for me!"

"Vulcan's do not lie, Doctor. I merely made an omission of an insignificant occurrence which had no bearing on the success of the mission."

Leonard eyed up the Vulcan, trying to determine his angle, but as usual he got nothing. He felt a tingle of warmth growing in the pit of his stomach that had never been there before when it came to Spock. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and he shifted on his feet, trying to find the words he wanted to say. "Spock, I know we've had our…'disagreements' as you call them, and maybe I make a few too many jokes at your expense, but I want you to know…well…I should think you deserve…what I'm trying to say is…"

"Doctor, your bumbling may be endearing to the captain, I however, do not have time for it. Please be brief."

"Well, what I'm trying to say is…we're even."

"I believe the correct term you are seeking is 'thank you.'"

"Why would I thank you? You did that Vulcan voodoo on me. I told you never to do that!"

"Doctor, Vulcans do not practice voodoo. I merely applied pressure near the base of the neck and shoulder to render you unconscious. Your emotions were imprudent, even for a human. It was necessary."

"Necessary, my ass! Of all the completely, ridiculous, illogical statements I've ever heard in my life!"

"I very much doubt this to be true."

"Why you—" Leonard lunged, while Spock raised his hand with two suspiciously familiar fingers.

"Gentlemen," Jim said, stepping out of his ready room, "am I interrupting something?"

"Nothing but Dr. McCoy's standard postulations," Spock said, lowering his hand and straightening his uniform.

"Blasted Vulcan!" Leonard took another step toward Spock, but Jim moved between them, throwing his arm around their shoulders.

"I like that things are back to normal," Jim said, clapping both of them on the back. "It makes me uncomfortable when you two are in agreement."

The turbolift doors opened and the three entered, heading toward the bridge.

" _Keptin_ on ze deck!" Mr. Chekov called out. He was fully recovered and back at his navigation station.

Jim folded himself into his captain's chair and Leonard took his place, standing behind Jim's right shoulder.

"Captain," Spock said from his station, "does this mean you and the doctor have reached an agreement with your strike negotiations?"

"It does, Mr. Spock,” Jim said. “The captain’s physician, one Leonard H. McCoy M.D., is officially no longer on strike."

The bridge crew did their best to hide their smiles, but Leonard saw them easily enough. He didn't like the idea he’d been the one to crack first, but there were still some things he had control over.

"Yes, back on the job," Leonard said, smiling and rocking on his heels a little bit. "And I'll take this time to remind the captain he has his quarterly physical in three days."

"Bones…" Jim drew out his name in a warning.

"Jim, I don't make the rules," Leonard said with his best southern charm. "I just follow them. And I'll be expecting your smiling face at 0800 sharp. Maybe tomorrow we'll visit the mess to discuss your new diet."

"Bones."

"Part of the terms, _Captain_. Unless you'd like to revisit them?"

Jim shook his head, settling back in his chair. "You're going to be insufferably pleased with yourself for awhile, aren't you?"

Leonard rocked on his heels one more time. "Indeed, I am, Jim."

 

 

**THE END =/\= FOR NOW...**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it, that's all. Thank you to everyone who's been reading, leaving comments & kudos. There are so many talented people in this McKirk fandom, it's nice to be able to contribute and be a part of it. This fic was meant as a sidebar while I've been writing a monstrous 80K+ McKirk fic (almost finished). This was the fluff balance to the angsty mofo I've been writing. Thank you for the encouragement, it will help to simmer my anxiety when I go to post the new one! 
> 
> *I'm a huge "Band of Brothers" fan, so I had to throw a little something in there. The idea of Jim's book from Pike came from "Leadership at the Point of the Bayonet" by Major Richard 'Dick' Winters. I've always thought it was appropriate for someone like Jim Kirk. You can read his '10 Principles for The Selfless Leader' here: http://bit.ly/1mmdeRQ
> 
> Thanks again! Once I finish the other fic, maybe I'll have to come back to this universe and see the ship through to the end of their five year mission!


End file.
